The Bridge Between
by drarrylinny
Summary: Harry is lonely in his post-war life and he and Draco have to take care of Teddy Lupin together. Against their wills, of course. Featuring Oblivious!Harry and Crushing!Draco, and some background Romione. EWE.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first fanfic (ignoring the ones that I wrote when I was twelve) and I'm hoping you guys like it! It's an idea that I'm really into but I haven't seen a lot of in the fandom, so I decided to write it myself! I can't speak to how often it'll be updated, although I'm hoping every week, but we'll see how that goes. I hope you guys like it!**

 **A little info: it's set in a post-Hogwarts AU world, in which the epilogue didn't happen. Just in case you didn't get that from the description. Also, warning you now, there will not be Drarry in every chapter!**

 **If you like it, please leave a review! If you don't like it (and have constructive criticism), please leave a review! If you like it and you want to beta it, message me! The more reviews I get, the more likely I am to post more often!**

 **Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. On to that good Drarry shit, shall we?**

* * *

Teddy was coming today.

Harry smiled as he set the table, putting down a turquoise fork next to the high chair. He looked over at the stove, where the last strawberry pancakes were turning golden brown. With a flick of his wand, the pancakes joined the towering stack that was piled high on his largest plate, and he recast the Warming Charm that he had put on them. It wouldn't do to have cold pancakes when Teddy arrived.

Harry had always eagerly awaited these visits from Teddy and Andromeda. It got kind of lonely being a single wizard in the big city of London, and although the women around him were always interested in the romantic life of the Boy-Who-Lived-Turned-Auror, he never held an interest. The Daily Prophet had fortunately stopped speculating on Harry's love life ages ago, only writing a short piece after Ron and Hermione's wedding a few years back. Harry wasn't fussed. Just because he had a glamorous job (sort of. That was debatable, really) didn't mean he wanted a glamorous life. He did get a little jealous of his friends. After his best friends had gotten married, Ginny had proposed to Luna and their wedding had been a few months later. Neville had married right after the war, and so had Dean and Seamus. Now Ron and Hermione had little Rose running around, and Luna was pregnant, and Dean and Seamus had bought a house, and Neville had Hannah, and Harry was just Harry.

So yes, Harry got lonely. But then the doorbell rang, and, without pause, Teddy Lupin burst through the door.

"Uncle Harry Uncle Harry hi hi hi Uncle Harry we're here!" Teddy squealed, hardly taking a breath before vaulting up Harry's chest and wrapping his small body around his head. Harry staggered back with a laugh, hitting the wall and peeling the little boy off as he did so. He gave him a bear hug, Teddy giggling and squirming as Harry turned to Andromeda. She was leaning against the doorframe, watching her grandson's antics. She looked elegant as ever, but tired, the resemblance to her late sister Bellatrix growing more pronounced as she lost sleep.

"Morning, Harry dear." She gracefully approached him and tried to smooth his hair. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, 'Dromeda," Harry said kindly. "I'm excited for this brunch with an extra special godson of mine!" This was directed towards Teddy, and he was rewarded with an sloppy kiss on the cheek. "How are you?" Back to Andromeda.

"It's alright. I've been missing Ted a lot recently. It was his birthday last week. Oh, don't worry, Harry dear, I'm fine," she said as he attempted to pat her on the shoulder. "It's hard but crying won't change anything. Besides, Teddy hardly gives me any time to worry about it. He's a rascal, that boy, and his magic is strengthening every month. He's just like Nymphadora."

Teddy looked up, made a face at his grandmother, and with a pop, appeared in the sitting room.

"I can see that," Harry laughed. "Do you want me to take him off your hands for a few hours? I'm sure you could use a nap."

"Oh darling, I was hoping you would say that." Andromeda visibly relaxed. "Would you mind taking him for the day? Narcissa invited me out to tea and I haven't seen her in a blue moon."

"Yeah, go! Don't worry about us." Harry looked back at Teddy, who was systematically destroying his living room. Harry grimaced and turned back to Andromeda. "I'll take him to the zoo or something."

"Oh Harry, I can't do that to you! I'll talk to Narcissa and we'll send reinforcements."

Harry shrugged. "Do what you need to. But most importantly, have fun! Don't even think of Teddy and I. Just focus on reconnecting with your sister." At the sight of her dubious face, he put his hand on shoulder for reassurance. "Honestly. Just go."

Andromeda left with a wave, a smile, and a promise of picking Teddy up promptly at 5.

Harry closed the door with a sharp click and turned to the noise in the living room. He pulled his wand out from his back pocket and approached to door to see Teddy, with giant eagle talons, ripping his curtains at the bottom. He whispered, " _Reparo,_ " pointing his wand at the wreckage of his couch and side tables, and then waved it at the curtains.

"Teddy… what are you doing?"

Teddy looked up at him with a guilty smile. "Giving your curtains a pretty edge, Uncle Harry?"

Harry suppressed a laugh and gave his godson a stern look before relenting. "Let's go eat some breakfast, huh?"

"Strawberry pancakes?"

"You bet, kiddo."

Harry picked him up for the second time, ruffling Teddy's turquoise hair. He had started to walk out of the room when the fireplace flared green. Floo Powder, Harry thought, as his hand flew to his wand. His mind raced as he tried to imagine people who had access to his fireplace.

It was just Andromeda.

"Harry dear, Cissy said that she would send someone! Just wanted to let you know!" She waved at Teddy. "He'll be here any second!" With that, the flames died and Harry heard a crisp knock at the door. Probably just one of Malfoy Manor's house elves, he thought, and went to open it. Setting a squirming Teddy down as he opened the door, Harry looked up.

Piercing grey eyes, like molten silver, stared back at him. Harry froze, fixated on those eyes.

"Uncle Draco!" Teddy exclaimed and rushed out of Harry's grip, shaking Harry out of his stupor.

Draco Malfoy stood before him, but not as Harry remembered from his school days. His hair was even more platinum than before, and shone in the sun as it hung in his face. His structure was less angular, yet he stood with the the rigidity of a prince. He was decked out like royalty, too, with a plum colored shirt accented with a silver patterned vest that was the same color as those intense, burning eyes.

"Hello Teddy. Potter." Malfoy swept Teddy in his arms with immense grace and then looked at Harry, lip curling. "I see you clean up well."

Harry flushed as he appraised his outfit - maroon Weasley sweater, Muggle jeans and mismatched socks - and felt a powerful flood of emotion. Frustration.

"Who knew the Savior would need someone to save his wardrobe?" Malfoy sneered, and Harry's hand twitched toward his wand in his back pocket.

"At least I don't have to call a house elf to dress myself," Harry shot back, and Malfoy's eyes widened.

"I don't use a house elf to dress myself, Potter. The Manor's closets and my own fashion sense are far sufficient."

"Well, we don't all live in manors, unfortunately."

"Obviously." Malfoy knocked on the old doorframe of Grimmauld Place and chuckled.

Harry ground his teeth. He couldn't pick a fight with Malfoy, not now. Teddy was here, think of Teddy. He held out his arms and his godson leapt into them. Harry shot one last glare at Malfoy - who stood there, confused that the little boy had just abandoned him - and turned around. He had already entered the sitting room before he heard the sharp click of the front door. _What a git_ , he thought to himself. He must've stood there deliberating about whether or not to come in for a good minute.

"It's not booby-trapped," Harry called.

"I wouldn't peg you as intelligent enough to booby trap this place," Malfoy called, faintly. Harry rolled his eyes and kept walking, concentrating on taming the squirming Teddy instead of Malfoy's insults.

He turned and entered the dining room, a rather cosy place ever since Harry had remodeled the house. The buttery yellow of the walls made the spring light seem even warmer, and as Teddy settled into his high chair, his hair turned a light green to match the atmosphere. Every time that Teddy and Andromeda visited, Harry elected to hold brunch in the kitchen as opposed to the dreary dining room.

By the time Malfoy walked into the kitchen, Harry was seated, levitating pancakes in the air (much to the amusement of Teddy) and all three table settings were set with food and maple syrup. Teddy clapped at the sight of his older cousin, and then stuffed his cheeks with pancakes, squealing in delight at the sweet strawberries.

"It's impossible to navigate your house, Potter," Malfoy said hurriedly, but Harry was delighted to see the embarrassed pink tinge that appeared high on Malfoy's cheekbones.

When Harry said nothing, Malfoy ran a hand through his platinum hair and slowly sat down. He picked up his fork and knife and slowly began to cut into the pancakes. Teddy babbled on about some Muggle show that Andromeda had been showing him recently, and Harry responded enthusiastically to everything he said. Some of the things that Teddy mentioned sounded similar to the stuff that Dudley had always watched, and the two of them fell into a rhythm of childish songs and nonsense games. It was a bit more rowdy than it ever got when Andromeda was here, but Harry didn't mind. It was good for him, these long, sunny, brunches with Teddy. It was like imagining what would have happened if he had married some girl, and had kids. Sometimes, he even thought, this is what it would have been like if his dad and mum had raised him. He smiled at the thought as Teddy threw a syrup-covered strawberry at him, hitting him right in the glasses.

"Teddy." Malfoy's voice cut sharply through Harry's sunny fantasies. "That is unbefitting of a Black." Harry snorted in disdain at the sound of the other man's voice, and cast a _Scourgify_ on his glasses.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry growled, and Malfoy jerked back in his seat. "He was just having a spot of fun."

"He's acting like a feral pig!"

"Nonsense."

Teddy squealed in delight, and instantly transformed his nose into a pig's snout.

"Besides." Harry's eyes narrowed, and he thought he saw a flare of panic in the grey ones next to him. "He's a Lupin, not a Black."

"Yes. Yes, of course," Malfoy murmured, suddenly submissive.

oOo

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Malfoy seemed to have been struck dumb after Harry's outburst, and the combination of Teddy's newfound pig snout and the way that pancakes kept levitating themselves onto the little boy's plate kept Harry busy. When Andromeda finally arrived to pick Teddy up, Harry was sticky and smelled like maple and strawberries. He cast another quick cleaning spell on his clothes as Teddy ran off to greet his aunt, and had turned to join them when he felt a cool hand clench his wrist.

"Wait. Potter." Malfoy's voice was soft and quieter than Harry had ever heard it. "You missed a spot."

He whispered _"Scourgify"_ and suddenly Harry felt an influx of magical energy in the air. As an Auror, he was trained to detect large magical caches like this one. Despite the sheer amount of magical charge he was emitting, the spell that Malfoy had just cast felt like delicate vines rather than the tsunami that his energy suggested. The spell climbed up Harry's arms onto his body, casting off grime as it went. By the time it was done, Harry was fully clean and shaking a bit from the energy around him. Malfoy had swept past him towards his front door, and he could hear him greeting Andromeda. Harry shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, and went to meet them.

"Ah, Harry dear," Andromeda said as soon as he rounded the corner. "How was it?" Harry heard the worried undertone of _Did Teddy give you too much trouble?_ in her voice, and he hurried to reassure her.

"Oh don't worry 'Dromeda, he was a doll as always." He ruffled Teddy's hair and looked down at the little boy, who looked up at him with an innocent smirk. Harry was startled to see how much he looked like Malfoy in that moment. They were cousins, he supposed.

"Oh yes, well…" Andromeda trailed off, looking at Malfoy, who was looking at Teddy with soft eyes. Since when would I describe anything about Malfoy as soft? Harry thought. Ridiculous. The older woman spoke up again. "Maybe I could help you clean up in the kitchen for a moment. Come along."

She had dragged him into the kitchen swiftly with the grip of a much younger woman before Harry could even speak a word of dissent, and began to cast cleaning spells everywhere. As the soap began to cover the plates and pans that were piled high next to his sink, Andromeda turned to him sharply.

"Was that good for you, Harry dear?"

"Erm, what? What was good?"

"The brunch!" Andromeda exclaimed, one hand on her hip and the other waving excitedly in the air. "This… this whole affair! Was it good?"

"Um. Yes?" He supposed it had gone as well as any of their brunches.

"Good!" She beamed, and squeezed his arm. "Narcissa will be so pleased to hear. She's been wanting Draco to make amends with you so badly, and here is his chance, finally! Not to mention that we haven't caught up in ages, and it'll be nice to do so more often, and with Teddy off my hands…" She trailed off.

Harry had picked up on something that she had said - the words "more often" - and opened his mouth to ask her about it, but she began to talk again.

"I suppose you won't mind if we make this a regularly scheduled thing, darling. We - that is, Cissa and I - just thought it would be so beneficial for all of us!" She smiled wider and looked to Harry sort of anxiously. Harry just looked at her for a moment before he gathered he was being called upon to respond.

"Oh. Yes. You and Narcissa should catch up," he felt himself saying. "And." He had to squeeze the next words out of his throat, as if they didn't want to emerge. "Malfoy and I will take care of Teddy."

"Oh marvelous," she said. And that was that.

She and Teddy swept out of Grimmauld Place quickly, leaving behind quiet salutations and cheek kisses from Andromeda and screaming goodbyes from Teddy.

Malfoy stood in the doorframe, watching them as they Apparated away. Harry approached him from behind as quietly as he could, rewarded when the pale man in front of him jumped as Harry cleared his throat. Finally, his Auror training was coming in handy in his life outside of work.

"Scared, Malfoy?" Harry sneered at him with a smile on his face.

"You wish." Malfoy shot a glare at Harry and turned back toward the door, watching the quiet street in front of them. The two of them stood in silence for several minutes. The only sounds were of their mixed breathing and the faint scrubbing of the dishes in the kitchen.

"Thank you." Harry said finally.

"What?" Malfoy started.

"Well, no need to sound so flabbergasted." Harry chuckled. "I said thank you. For the Cleaning Charm."

"Hmm."

"I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Never have been."

"It's sort of necessary in my profession," Malfoy said, and then shrugged.

"What do you do?"

"Healer."

"Ah. Yes." Harry nodded, not asking why he had chosen it.

"Well, I ought to be going. I guess I'll see you next week, Potter." Malfoy didn't meet his eyes as he stepped out of the house, and Harry caught the same tinge of pink that he had seen earlier on his face.

"Oh, you heard that?" Harry said, and Malfoy nodded. "Yes, I guess I will see you next week."

As Malfoy stepped away, Harry felt a sudden urge to catch his arm, and so he did. Malfoy looked down again, obviously startled, and then looked up at Harry.

"I think… if we're going to be taking care of Teddy so often… we should take care of ourselves first," Harry said firmly. He hardly noticed the flush that spread across the other man's face. "We should make amends," he clarified. "It won't do to be so obsessed with our old rivalry from our school days with Teddy at such an impressionable age."

"Ah. Yes." Malfoy looked up at Harry. "I agree."

With that, he wrenched his arm from Harry's grasp, ran down the steps, and Apparated away.

Harry looked after him, confused, but elected to close the door and retreat inside Grimmauld Place instead of speculating on it any longer.

* * *

 **Did y'all like that? I'm praying so. I almost cried from frustration while I was writing the last bit, I wanted them to kiss so badly. But no, I gotta stretch the tension as much as possible! Ahhhh...**

 **If you liked it, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter doesn't include any Drarry. My sincerest apologies.**

 **Despite that, please, feel free to read on (it'll be important later).**

* * *

Harry heard a knock on the front door and opened it, tousling his hair lazily.

"Mate, what's up?" He opened his eyes fully to see the tall, gangly, smiling form of Ron Weasley in the doorway.

"Ron!" Harry grinned widely and pulled his best mate into a bear hug. then led him into the kitchen. Ron plopped down on the table and cast aside a large tin as Harry turned to the stove, where he was making beef stew. The tin rattled menacingly, and Ron slapped a hand down on the cover. Harry looked over with a question in his eyes, and his best friend shrugged sheepishly.

"It's cookies! Sort of." He looked at the container, and when it didn't rattle again, he carefully removed his hand. "You know how I've been taking leave from the joke shop because Hermione says we can't leave Rosie at the day care all the time?" Harry nodded. "Well, I've been trying to do more stay-at-home dad type stuff, making food, things like that. And I'm not awful at it!"

As if to disprove his point, the box rattled again, and Ron grumbled. "Okay, well, I'm not awful at making scrambled eggs, and stir fry, and the like. Rosie likes my cooking, at least, and I'm getting better than Hermione."

"Oh, thank god," Harry said. "I was getting worried for that little girl. Not a good cook between either of her parents, as hard as Molly tried with Hermione." Ron laughed at that.

"Yeah, Mum really did try too hard with 'Mione. As much as I love her, she's just not good at cooking and never will be." He grinned. "Don't tell her I said that."

Harry mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

"Well anyway, I told Mum that I wanted a few of her recipes, and she got a little enthusiastic, and gave me this one for" - he paused and pulled out a crumpled card from his jeans pocket - "Citrus Cookie Mice." Harry snorted and Ron cuffed him on the shoulder. "Don't laugh! It's from my childhood. I loved these cookie mice. Mum used to make them every summer." He looked down at the card reminiscently, and then scowled. "Unfortunately, she didn't tell me that if you add too much citrus - which I did, because Rosie loves oranges! - the mice turn into rats."

Harry choked on the sip of stew that he was trying, and then began laughing hysterically. "So you're trying to tell me," he chuckled, "that you've got a full-blown Scabbers infestation in that box?"

Ron glared at him. "Don't laugh! They're positively vicious." Harry continued to laugh, and Ron sighed. "Anyway, I thought you might like them as a novelty thing for Teddy."

"Are you kidding? Andromeda would kill me if I set, as you say, vicious rat cookies on Teddy." Harry laughed again. "Why don't you just feed them to Crookshanks?"

"Ugh, that mangy menace is down to his last days." Ron had never quite fallen in love with Crookshanks the way his wife had. "Hermione doesn't want the thing to overexert himself."

"Speaking of, where is your darling wife?" Harry hadn't seen her in quite some time, she being very busy with her job at the Ministry.

"Just dropping Rosie off at Mum's, although who knows how long that could take. I feel like Mum has become even more coddling ever since Ginny and Luna have been expecting, and now she's taking it out on all of her current grandchildren." He rolled his eyes. "She's constantly asking me if you've found someone yet. She wants her children to be a constant factory of grandbabies, and the fact that you've not found anyone is stressing her out. Don't worry about it though, mate. No one said you had to get married in the first place, if you don't want to," Ron hurriedly said at the worried look on Harry's face.

"Oh, no! It's not that at all. It's just that… why is she worried about me? I haven't dated Ginny since sixth year," Harry said.

"Oh please, Harry," Ron said, exasperated. "You know you're like her son."

As a knock resounded from the entryway, Harry looked down at the watch that Molly had given him on his seventeenth birthday. He supposed he was still a Weasley, even if he hadn't been to see Molly in quite some time. He would, he resolved, and got up from his chair. He missed her greatly. He missed all of them, he thought to himself, as he threw open the door to see his other best friend's smiling face.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "How are you? Sorry it took me so long!" He grinned at his best friend and welcomed her in, giving her a long, deep hug. He had missed her. He looked back at Ron, who was standing in the sitting room, peering out at the two, and immediately felt at peace.

oOo

They sat around the kitchen table, much later into the day. The world outside was a deep blue and stars winked at them through the windows. At some point, Harry had summoned a bottle of Firewhiskey from his pantry at Ron's urging and they had been supplementing their mugs of tea with the strong liquid for at least an hour now. Harry felt good. The warm alcohol and the warm stew in his stomach felt comforting, and sitting here with Ron and Hermione, discussing life, was natural. It was like they were back in school, before the war had touched their lives.

Right now, Ron and Hermione were quietly arguing over Rosie, and Harry thought back to the times in sixth year when the two were constantly fighting. Those were the days, Harry thought to himself.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Huh?"

"'Mione was just asking if there's anyone who's caught your fancy." Ron wiggled his eyebrows at Harry in a way that reminded him strongly of George and Fred.

"Erm. No. Not really." Harry shook his head, trying to think of the last time that he had felt strongly for anyone. "Not a lot of time with Auror stuff."

Hermione looked at him shrewdly. "So no girls or _\- ahem -_ men that have caught your eye?"

If she hadn't coughed he might have missed it. As it was, he turned to her, catching Ron's eye on the way, who merely smirked.

"Men?" Harry said in disbelief. "Men."

"Oh come on, Harry!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you about to tell us that you're not interested in men? Come on." She leaned closer with interest and he smelled the Firewhiskey on her breath. "Tell us."

"Yeah mate." Ron took another sip of his spiked tea and grimaced. "It's us."

Harry opened his mouth to say that no, he was definitely not interested in men; and then he closed it. He supposed that maybe he could be attracted to men. But he liked women, didn't he? Maybe. He scrunched his face up in thought.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to." Hermione suddenly sounded as uncertain as Harry felt.

"Yeah um. I guess I don't really know." Harry looked up at them. He felt guilty, suddenly, as if he was deliberately keeping something from his two best friends. He wasn't. Was he? He smiled in a sad way. "I really. Just. Erm. Don't know."

Ron gave Hermione a quick glance, as if he was confirming something with her, and then looked back at Harry.

"That's alright, mate," Ron said. "You don't have to know." But something in his voice made Harry think that his two friends knew something about him that he didn't know himself, and the idea confused him further.

"Anyway," Hermione said, stretching languidly across the table, "moving away from that… Ron got a few tickets to see the Chudley Cannons in a few weeks, you should come!"

Harry looked at Ron for confirmation, and he smiled and shrugged.

"Mum suggested we take Ginny, but you know how busy she's been with the tournament, and Luna, and the baby lately. Besides." He looked at Harry pointedly. "You've been avoiding us, mate! We've hardly seen you since that last big project you were working on! What was it?"

"The Yorkshire Case, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes as her husband waved his hands avidly.

"Yes! That was it! What have you even been doing since then?"

"Hanging out with Teddy, mostly," Harry said.

"Oh Merlin," Ron groaned. "I love Teddy to death and all, but for god's sakes, play with some people your own age!"

Harry grinned into his cup (in which the Firewhiskey and the tea were curdling unpleasantly).

"Yeah, alright."

He took another sip as Ron whooped with excitement and Hermione looked up at him from her own mug, her eyes crinkling with a hint of a smile.

oOo

Harry lay alone in his bed that night, thinking about what his friends had said. They hadn't gone home until about two in the morning, Ron still drinking steadily ( _"Iss not often that we get a night out, you guys! Ah, mates… come on"_ ) and Hermione supporting him carefully. In Harry's current case, though, he felt that the warm glow in his stomach was from seeing his friends, not from the Firewhiskey. He really didn't see them often enough, he thought, and immediately resolved to do so more. He had missed the Trio.

He smiled, closed his eyes and let the darkness take him away.

And yet he could not. Hermione's words stuck with him. _No men that have caught your eye?_ Men. Harry let the words echo around in his head. He had never had much use to think about it before. He had always assumed that he was interested in women. After all, Witch Weekly had always named him Bachelor of the Year. And that was a magazine for witches, not wizards. But was he really about to base his sexuality on a magazine? And such a silly rag, the kind that populated the waiting rooms of Wizarding London, not one that was renowned by any means. Besides, he thought as he turned over, maybe he was interested in both! There was no reason not to be. Just because he found the Muggle man who bartended around the corner from his house attractive didn't mean that he hadn't found girls - Ginny, Cho - attractive. He sighed. This was far too confusing.

He heard a tap on the window and flicked the shades open to see a beautiful tawny owl waiting outdoors. He got up, grumbling, and threw open the window, allowing the bird to clamber through the entry and drop its letter on the night stand. The owl hooted once and stared at Harry, obviously prompting him to open it.

Harry groaned, and opened the letter.

 _Potter-_

 _I realize that the two of us have an obligation to watch Teddy Lupin tomorrow. My proposition is to take him on a picnic. There is a nice Muggle park near my flat that is very clean, and we can bring Teddy there. Let me know._

 _Draco Lucius Malfoy_

The letter was written in cursive, in a shimmering green ink that sparkled as Harry brought it closer to the light. He rolled his eyes in exasperation at Malfoy's showmanship, yanked open his drawer and rummaged through it to find a quill and ink. He scrawled a quick 'Sounds good' on the back of Malfoy's letter and shoved it in the bird's beak. It gave a muffled, indignant squawk and flew out the still open window, knocking over Harry's lamp in the process.

"Bloody git," Harry mumbled, closing the window and jumping into bed. He'd have a few words with Malfoy tomorrow about sending owls at two in the morning.

He curled up and closed his eyes, succumbing at last to a pleasant sleep.

* * *

 **So that's that! I hope you guys liked where I'm going with this new chapter, although I really am sad that there was no Drarry. I have to set the scene, though, so chapters with Ron and Hermione are going to be quite common in the earlier bits, I think!**

 **Also: thank you to everyone who faved and followed and reviewed! I couldn't believe it when (every time I logged on!) there was a new follower or review for me to squeal over. I'm so pleased that you all liked my story so much! I'll try to make you guys proud in the future. You guys are what keep this story going!**

 **As always, leave a review if you like it (or if you don't!) and follow the story if you so desire.**

 **I adore you all, my lovely Drarry shippers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everybody! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and followed and favorited the story. I can't believe how many people have liked my terribly self-indulgent Drarry writing. I really appreciate all of you. Anyway, I'll let you get onto the story.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy would not insult his outfit today.

Harry smirked, almost reminiscent of a Slytherin, as he stared at himself in the mirror. In dark wash jeans, a dark green cable knit sweater, and his nicest (and by that, he meant not as dirty) loafers, he looked like a Muggle, yes, but a nicely dressed one. He had even made an effort to comb his hair, although it hadn't worked. He had given up that endeavor quickly.

He exhaled and stepped out of his house, Apparating instantly to Andromeda's house. He saw Teddy's face, pressed up against the glass, before it disappeared and he heard the faint sound of "Uncle Harry's here!" from within.

He had just raised his fist to knock when the door opened and Teddy barreled straight into Harry's kneecaps, knocking him backwards.

"Oof!" Harry grunted, catching hold of Teddy. "Let's calm down, shall we? We still have to wait for Malf- er, Uncle Draco to get here." He smiled up at Teddy, who was pulling on Harry's hair.

"We don't have to wait! Uncle Draco's here! He's here!" Teddy looked up with a gleaming grin and pointed just beyond Harry's vision. Harry made a move to look and was almost blinded by the sun before a tall, slim figure moved to block it.

"Potter. You look a mess. Again," the figure drawled. Harry scrambled to his feet and looked down at his now-disheveled outfit.

"I didn't look like this earlier, Malfoy!" Harry spat. "Teddy knocked me over."

"Ah, manners, Potter; blaming a little boy for your slovenly attributes. Hello Teddy," Malfoy said, lifting his struggling cousin into the air. "Are you saying you made an effort in your attire - for once in your life - for me? How touching." He smirked at Harry's disgruntled expression.

"Absolutely not, Malfoy," Harry said, trying to act calm. "You're the last person I'm trying to impress."

He caught one glance of Malfoy's confused expression (which was incredibly satisfying) before he turned back to the open door. Andromeda stood in the door.

"Behave yourselves, boys. I'm not talking about Teddy." Andromeda winked, and Harry rolled his eyes. Teddy whooped loudly in the background. "Teddy, behaving yourself is a given."

"Aww, Aunty!" Teddy protested, and Harry waved in the direction of the house.

"See you in a few hours, 'Dromeda. Have fun with Narcissa." Harry looked back at the struggling Teddy and a distressed Draco Malfoy and grinned. This was going to be fun.

oOo

It was beautiful, was Harry's first thought. Like a perfect, rolling field of grass, shimmering silver under the sun's light. A light of dark trees - far away - broke the earth and the sky into two separate parts. The sky was blue without a hint of clouds, and Harry sighed. It really was nice.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy's voice broke into Harry's internal monologue, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it's quite nice." Just padding Malfoy's ego for finding a place like this. Wait. "How did you find this place again?"

"Oh, it's right near my flat." Malfoy gestured towards the bustling city in the distance. "I took a walk one day and found it."

"That's a Muggle city," Harry said, dumbfounded. Malfoy looked and him and nodded in exasperation, while laying a blanket down on the pale green grass. "You live in a Muggle flat?"

"Yes, Potter!" Malfoy huffed. "It's close to St. Mungo's, and I enjoy the walk to work."

"You don't live with your mother anymore?"

"No, Potter. I'm not a child." He flopped down and grunted as Teddy jumped onto his stomach. Harry stood there for a moment, processing this new fact, and then sat down on the blanket next to them.

"I want to go play on the playground," Teddy said in excitement, and jumped on Malfoy again.

"After you eat, Teddy," Harry said, and pulled a bunch of sandwiches from the basket at his side. "Are you a vegetarian?" This was directed at Malfoy.

"Ahem. No." Malfoy cleared his throat again. "But if Andromeda made a vegetarian sandwich, I'll eat it. I don't mind."

Harry smiled. "Actually, I made the sandwiches. And yes, there is a vegetarian panini in there. The only one I made specifically was a ham and cheese for Teddy, because he loves ham! Don't you, Teddy?"

"Ham!" Teddy nodded, his mouth already full. "I wanna play on the playground!"

"Later," Malfoy said, one hand stroking Teddy's hair, the other reaching for the panini. "So you fancy yourself a chef, Potter?" He smirked at this.

"Not really," Harry said. "It's just a sandwich, really. Ron just got me a panini press for my birthday last summer."

Malfoy took a bite and brightened. "Oh, it's really excellent! A classic Caprese panini, but the tomato is so fresh and the basil is so fresh - did you grow them yourself? And the mozzarella! Did you import this from Italy? It's so silky, not rubbery at all. This is Wizard-bred buffalo milk, isn't it? The tang is different from Muggle-bred or even Wizard-bred cattle. It's delicious."

He closed his eyes, savoring the taste, and licked his lips. When he opened his eyes, Harry was watching him carefully. A small flush crept onto the blond's cheeks, and he looked down, taking another small bite.

"Don't watch me like that," Malfoy said, embarrassment heavy in his tone. "I know you're using your Auror skills on me."

"No, I'm not." Harry flushed in return. He really hadn't been. It's just that he was so intrigued by who Malfoy was now, how he'd changed since the war. He hadn't seen him in so long and he seemed so different… Harry shook himself out of his reverie. This was Malfoy. Don't read any deeper into it, he thought. "You guessed right. I ordered the mozzarella yesterday, cost me a fortune in owl delivery, but Teddy loves it. And the tomato and basil come from my garden. Just a small one, some vegetables and herbs and the like." He paused, and looked at the other man. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a foodie, y'know. Guess we make quite the pair, Malfoy."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Potter." Malfoy gave him a small smile, and then looked down. "And. A lot of things I wish I knew about you."

("Playground?" Teddy asked, but they ignored him, and he went burrowing through the basket for more food.)

"Like what?" Harry felt a bit confused, and Malfoy looked at Harry through his eyelashes. Long and blond, just like his hair. Harry swallowed thickly. "What do you want to know?"

Malfoy flushed again, and seemed to lose his nerve. "I dunno." He looked away from Harry and ran a hand through his hair. Harry mirrored him, but Malfoy didn't look back at him again.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I want to play on the playground!" Teddy whined for the fourth time, and Harry looked at Malfoy, nodding, and was surprised to see the glittering in his silver eyes. He looked more alive than ever, as though he had swallowed a star.

"Yeah, sure. The playground." Harry hadn't eaten his sandwich yet, but he wasn't really hungry. The sunny warmth spread through his body, and he was fine.

oOo

Teddy was hanging from the monkey bars by his toes. The mother next to Malfoy and Harry looked at them in distress, and Harry had to stifle a laugh for the third time in the last 15 minutes.

"In retrospect, bringing a young, pre-Hogwarts Metamorphmagus to a Muggle playground was not the best idea." Malfoy rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Harry laughed. Already (despite the VERY CLEAR and SPECIFIC rules that the two men had set before they had come to the playground) Teddy had changed his nose shape three times, his hair color twice, and made his tongue look like a lizard's, much to the horror of several five-year-olds.

"Oh, he's having fun." Harry looked happily at his godson.

"Be that as it may, people are staring." Malfoy glared, first at the mother next to them, then at Harry. "Teddy, come down!"

Teddy laughed and then jumped down, landing impossibly lightly. As he raced into the shade where the two men stood, his hair color changed from chartreuse to olive green. The mother gasped and shook her head frantically. Malfoy hung his head in his hands.

"Okay, well I think she thinks she's hallucinating," Harry chuckled and watched as the mother squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, obviously actively ignoring the three. "Yeah, she definitely thinks she's hallucinating."

"Still. Teddy." Malfoy grasped the little boy and looked at him sternly. "If you change. ONE MORE TIME. We will leave."

"No!" Teddy yelled. "I don't wanna leave!"

"Teddy, we know your magic isn't under control yet, but you have to be careful! This is a Muggle playground!" Malfoy hissed.

Harry looked around uncomfortably. "Let's go over to that area by the swings! No one's over there."

The three got up and walked swiftly over to the area that Harry had indicated, Malfoy practically dragging Teddy. As soon as they got there, Teddy wrenched his arm free from Malfoy's grip, stuck his tongue out, and jumped six feet upward to the nearest tree branch. The two watched as the form of the little boy disappeared into the foliage above.

"Oooh, Malfoy… you made him mad," Harry said teasingly.

"Shut up, Potter!" Malfoy huffed, and stormed over to a nearby bench, sitting down with a great amount of force and crossing his limbs.

Harry eased over to the bench and sat carefully on the opposite end. Malfoy glared at him briefly, and then relaxed.

They sat there like that for a bit, calmly. Harry leaned back, listening to the wind and to Teddy's faint shrieks above. It was peaceful, he thought, and bit back a chuckle at the irony. He, Harry Potter, Auror and Gryffindor's 'Golden Boy,' sitting here so calmly next to Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and former Death Eater. A lot had changed since Hogwarts, he supposed. Malfoy was a Healer now. How was Malfoy a Healer? He turned and looked at the blond, who was watching Teddy anxiously.

"You're a Healer now?" Malfoy whipped his face to meet Harry's questioning gaze, seeming to interpret the underlying question of _why._

"Yes." He paused, and Harry waited patiently, understanding that he wasn't meant to press. "I supposed… after the war, that is… that my Potions marks were excellent, and I was qualified enough to become a Healer." He stopped again.

"I could've followed other paths, I guess, but…" Here, his voice grew quieter, until it was barely audible and Harry had to lean in to follow his words, "I thought I'd done enough damage in the world. I figured I should help it."

There was a moment of silence where both men were drawn back into the past.

"That's… wow. That's really noble of you, Malfoy." Harry was struck by the other man's words briefly, and then grinned at him. "Is nobleness really a Slytherin trait? Maybe you should've been a Gryffindor!"

"Ugh! You wish, Potter," Malfoy snarled, and then looked at him good-naturedly. "What about you?"

"What about me?" For a second, Harry's heart pounded, thinking that Malfoy had somehow found out about the Sorting Hat's turmoil between Gryffindor and Slytherin for Harry. He swiftly realized Malfoy was talking about his profession as an Auror, however, and nodded before Malfoy could clarify.

"Well, there's not really a lot to tell that not in the papers," Harry said amiably, and was surprised when Malfoy's face closed off in response.

"Oh, of course," the other man said, and then leaned back and closed his eyes, signaling that the conversation was over.

Harry nodded slowly and then leaned back as well, confused. Their talk had seemed to have been going well, but Malfoy had shut down so quickly. Had Harry done something wrong? He couldn't tell. Thinking about it, it was probably just Malfoy being Malfoy. What a prat, Harry thought, and screwed up his face in disdain and a little confusion. Maybe they hadn't changed as much as Harry had thought they had.

oOo

"Potter, wake up."

Harry jolted awake as soon as the slender, pale fingers touched his shoulder. When had he fallen asleep? He pushed his glasses higher on his nose and frowned up at Malfoy, whose platinum-blond head was framed by a halo of sunlight. Harry had to squint just to see the prat's face.

"Come on, Teddy is ready to leave. Finally." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

Harry jumped up, smoothing his rumpled clothes and striding past Malfoy, who looked at him curiously, but followed.

They reached the Apparition point and both grabbed on to Teddy. The nauseous feeling that Harry always got when he Apparated hit him heavily, and he bent over and gagged as soon as they hit the street in front of Andromeda's house. Nothing was in his stomach, though - he hadn't eaten a lot at the picnic - so nothing came, and Teddy scrambled up his steps as Harry straightened. He looked at Malfoy, who was looking at him with disdain. Or was that concern? Harry couldn't be sure, and so instead he turned to the house, whistling tunelessly.

Andromeda stood in the window, waving at them as Teddy climbed the armchair behind her. Harry chuckled. That boy never got tired, did he? He watched as Andromeda picked his godson up and disappeared from the window frame, and the living room went dark.

Harry felt Malfoy staring at him and turned his head, slowly.

"You look like a Muggle professor," Malfoy said, looking at Harry with a curious expression on his face.

Harry snorted sarcastically and twirled like a ballerina. "Is that your final verdict, Malfoy dear?" he sneered, and then grinned at Malfoy. The blond's face suddenly went bright red.

"It's hot out, isn't it!" Malfoy practically shouted this statement. It wasn't really, Harry thought, but Malfoy seemed rather uncomfortable suddenly. He looked up at the sun, and stepped forward, blocking Harry's view of his face.

"But yes, you look like a teacher." He turned back to Harry after a moment and looked him dead in the eyes. "Not in those glasses, though. Have you really had the same ones since first year?"

"Since, erm, always." Harry swallowed thickly, remembering his days at Privet Drive. He took the glasses off and began to buff the lenses on his shirt. "As long as I've had glasses."

"What?" Malfoy said in alarm. "Since you lived with Muggles? Are those… Muggle glasses?"

"Yes!" Harry said, as if he was defending his glasses. He wasn't. He wouldn't defend anything that the Dursleys' money had got him.

"Well, you need new ones," Malfoy mused, leaning back on his heels but still looking curiously at Harry. "Would you, um," he said, and paused before continuing, "like me to take you shopping for new ones?"

"Oh." Harry hadn't thought about spending time with Malfoy outside of their preestablished 'Teddy Time.' "Well…"

"You don't have to, by any means!" Malfoy hurried to say this, and then looked at Harry carefully. "It would be - ahem - my treat. Bonding time, and all that. Put up a better show of amiability for Teddy."

For Teddy. Yes. He would spend time with his boyhood rival for his beloved godson. He grinned, and Malfoy offered an uncertain smile in return.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

 **Ah! I was editing right before I uploaded and the picnic scene weirdly reminded me of Howl's Moving Castle? I have no idea why. Anyway, this story might be the end of my self-restraint, but I gotta have that good build-up. I just gotta.**

 **Anyway, please remember to review if you have any comments (I really appreciate it!) and maybe even fave/follow the story if you really like it? (I know, I'm shamelessly self-promoting. I apologize). I love waking up and seeing how much you guys love my story! It means the world to me. Also I got my first follow on my page and I'm endlessly excited about it, it's ridiculous.**

 **Love you guys and thanks for sticking with me!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is quite a bit shorter than the others. Also, it starts off a little bit after the last chapter; I wasn't sure if that was clear, because I don't have a beta. Sorry!**

* * *

Harry heard a knock and hurried to the door, opening it to reveal (who other than) Draco Malfoy. The blond wore a grey cloak made out of a summery material that shimmered with iridescence in the setting sunlight. Harry noted that he could see every color of Malfoy's eyes in its fabric.

"Well, are you going to invite me in, or just keep staring at me, Potter?" Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Okay, well. You were early, so it threw me off," Harry said with a frown. Malfoy averted his eyes and scratched the back of his head.

"I said I would be here to pick you up _around_ 6\. It is 5:51, which I believe qualifies as 'around.'" He looked down at a platinum watch, on which small, pale glints of light danced across the surface. It was almost the color of his hair, and Harry had to hold back a snort. What kind of prat matches everything he owns to the shifting colors of his blond hair and piercing grey eyes? "Besides," Malfoy continued, "the shop in question is in Paris, and I scheduled a Portkey for 6. So you better get ready fast."

Harry looked down at what he was wearing, which was the same thing he had been wearing an hour (or rather, 51 minutes) earlier.

"I am ready," Harry said harshly.

Malfoy looked at him, with a vaguely appalled expression on his face. It quickly turned to consternation as he realized that Harry was, in fact, not joking.

"Oh, Merlin," Malfoy murmured, and rubbed the bridge of his nose in much the same way that he had done earlier. He swept in, his cloak trailing behind him, and the scent of a fine cologne lingering after him. Harry startled at the enticing smell, and the blond was already in the sitting room before Harry got his wits about him enough to close the door and hurry after him.

"Potter, where's your bedroom?" Malfoy barked, insistent enough that it surprised Harry into answering.

"Erm, up the stairs and second door on the left." Did that cologne have Veritaserum in it?

Malfoy disappeared up the stairs, leaving Harry at the bottom, staring up into the darkness of the second floor of Grimmauld Place. Only when he heard the sounds of drawers opening was he prompted to bound up the steps and see what Malfoy was up to.

By the time he got there, half his wardrobe (which wasn't saying much - as Ginny liked to say, Harry was a very minimalist dresser) was on the floor and Malfoy was holding a vest up to the light.

"Ah! Potter, excellent." Malfoy smirked at him and indicated an outfit that lay across Harry's bed. "It is now 5:53. Please change into this attire immediately so that we can make our Portkey."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Like I said before, you look like a professor, or some sort of Muggle father." Malfoy scrunched up his nose. "Which was fine for the park, but we are going to _Tous-Yoyant des Yeux_. It is French, and it is fancy, and I have a reputation to uphold. I can't go bringing some boy in that looks like a Muggle ragamuffin. Change."

Harry looked down at the outfit. It wasn't a bad outfit, with a button down and a vest, and the only pairs of fitted trousers and wingtip shoes that Harry owned. Harry reached for the shirt, and then looked pointedly at Malfoy, who was still standing in the middle of the room, staring at him.

"What?" Malfoy said, and then his eyes widened in realization. "Ah. Um. Yes. I apologize."

He hurriedly left and stood outside the doorframe, explaining his choices as Harry changed.

"The shirt was quite simple; the emerald sort of matches your eyes, and then that patterned silver vest was an obvious choice to tie it to the pants. I rather like the velvet fleur-de-lis pattern on it, it's quite interesting. Did Fleur actually give it to you? It's quite obviously a French design, I recognize one of my own that is quite similar. And yes, I know it's Slytherin colors, but you can't hold a grudge against my house forever, that's not very Gryffindor of you. Now. As for the bottoms! You only have one pair of fitted trousers, Potter, which is a disgrace, and unfortunately they're more of a charcoal grey in comparison to your very black wingtips, but there's not really anything we can do about that at the moment. And… ah," Malfoy trailed off as Harry emerged, still in the process of patting down his hair. "Excellent, Potter," he said, sort of breathlessly, and then cleared his throat. "Well, you look slightly better than you did before, I guess."

"Shove it, Malfoy," Harry said, and then grinned. "Well, shall we be off?" He looked down at his watch. "It's 5:57."

"Ah, that doesn't matter," Malfoy said. "I brought the Portkey with me."

"Oh. Then I guess we have a few free minutes before it's time." They stood in silence for a few moments. It felt strangely awkward to Harry, as if they should be talking, but he couldn't figure out any reason why they would be. Then, he got a brilliant idea and smirked at the blond next to him.

"Malfoy. Have you ever tried a Citrus Cookie Rat?"

oOo

"I remain unconvinced that you were NOT trying to kill me!" Malfoy yelled. He stormed forward down the cobblestone street as Harry laughed hysterically behind him. "I should report you for assault and battery!"

"Merlin, Malfoy!" Harry ran after the angry Slytherin. "It was a joke! Besides, I got scratched up way worse than you did. And it's my Muggle neighbors that I'm going to have to Obliviate if they come around asking questions. Speaking of, I didn't know your voice could get that high!" He laughed again.

"It doesn't," Malfoy snarled, "Unless I am being attacked by furious mounds of oranges and oats!" He flushed. "And my voice did not even get that high."

"Oh please, Malfoy," Harry said, "You practically shattered my windows as soon as I opened the box! My glasses started to crack! You should become an opera singer."

Malfoy sneered at him and gestured at a small shop next to them. "Good thing your glasses started to crack just then, because we're here."

Harry smiled at him with pretend graciousness and stepped into the small shop.

The shop was dim, but in an elegant way, lit by floating candles that hovered next to small mirrors that covered the shop's walls. The multitude of reflective surfaces made the light slightly more intense and gave it the feeling of glowing internally. A quiet, yet lively tune was playing all around, and a warbling voice sang in French. A older, thin man with salt and pepper hair was sitting at the back of the shop, and nodded to Malfoy as the two men walked in. Obviously, he had been there before, Harry thought. Pretentious git.

"Well, shall we?" Malfoy gestured to the nearest display case and looked at Harry with a small smile. He had lost the angry demeanor from the street, and it threw Harry off. He quietly followed the other man to the display racks and watched as he quietly removed the first pair from the case.

After thirty minutes, Harry had lost count of the number of glasses they had tried on. All of them seemed similar, but Malfoy kept murmuring and removing the glasses from his face, moving on to the next pair swiftly. Harry wanted to tell him to just pick a bloody pair, already, but somehow it seemed like sacrilege. The other man was in his element here, moving elegantly around the display cases and whispering delicate remarks on the quality and fit that almost sounded like spells in and of themselves.

"Ah." Malfoy pushed a pair onto Harry's nose, and suddenly Harry could see properly again. "I think… well, these are quite nice. Take a look around."

Harry chose to look at Malfoy, who was smiling pleasantly. The warm glow that was reflecting off the wall-to-wall mirrors hit his pale skin in a way that made the blond himself seem as if he was glowing from within. Harry suddenly felt a lump in his throat as they locked eyes, and he wasn't quite sure why. He felt his smile grow to match Malfoy's, and just looked at him. The blond's eyes were softer - because of the candlelight? - almost in the way that Harry had seen him looking at Teddy the week before. There was color in his cheeks, and he looked more human than Harry had ever seen him.

"I can certainly see clearly," Harry heard himself say, almost as if in a dream, and then tore his eyes away from those piercing silver ones to look in the mirror. He faintly heard Malfoy clear his throat, and Harry took the opportunity to examine himself in the glasses. Still round, but less so, with a thin tortoiseshell frame and a pale gold bridge. They suit me, he thought, and smiled. "I like them."

"Yes, I like them too," Malfoy said, and hurried away to consult with the thin man at the back. Harry looked around and smiled at a woman and her son on the other side of the store. The little boy looked up at Harry, and he was struck with how much he looked like Teddy.

"They're paid for," a silken voice behind him said, and Harry whipped around to find - just Malfoy. "You really do look better in those."

"Thank you, but I could have paid." Harry looked up at the blond, momentarily wishing he wasn't so short. "I'm not some charity case, you know. I have money."

"No! I, um, I didn't mean…" Malfoy ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "I didn't mean to imply that. I was just trying to be nice."

"Oh." Harry looked at him again, dumbfounded. "Well, thanks."

"You're welcome," Malfoy said, and the same pink tinge on his cheeks - that had appeared when Harry had seen him a week ago - rose up again, spreading down to his long, pale throat; his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. What did Malfoy have to be embarrassed for? His family's wealth? Harry pondered this and then shook his head, deciding it was not worth his time. He swept to the door and gestured to it.

"Shall we?" he said, imitating Malfoy's grandiose manner from before. The blond's eyes glinted and the two swept out into the dusk.

* * *

 **Let's count how many times I can ever-so-slightly increase the sexual tension between them, shall we?**

 **I'm so miserable not writing kissing scenes (although I do have some bits and pieces, I just need a better plot around them). Also, I'm thinking about changing the rating from T to M? If any of y'all have opinions on that, please let me know in a review! I love to read them :) and I love you guys. You keep me going.**

 **Thanks to everyone who faved and followed this story as well! I adore you all and appreciate it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is a bit longer than the others, and it's just setting the scene for future chapters, but hopefully you guys like it! Please review!**

* * *

"Those are new glasses," Hermione noted as she set a file down on his desk.

Harry jumped. He was so engrossed in his work that he had hardly noticed her enter his office. Some Auror he was.

"You noticed!" he joked, and grabbed the file that she had just given him.

"Of course I noticed. You've had the same glasses since first year, Harry." She looked at him and smiled. "You do recall that every time your head grew, I was the one who cast a Growing Charm on them?"

Harry smiled meekly. "You're just so good at those kinds of charms, and I wasn't really…"

"I'm not complaining, I'm just stating that." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what prompted this?" She looked him up and down. "And is that a new shirt? I've never seen you wear a button-down to the office."

"Well, I'm not doing any fieldwork today. We just started a new case and today is just my day for filing all the reports and all that," he said, tapping a small mountain of papers and rolling his eyes. He didn't normally like filing the reports and the warrants for upcoming cases, but he had felt full of adrenaline recently. "Anyway, in regards to the new changes, I've had both this shirt and these glasses for several weeks now. Please pay better attention, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. You're slacking."

She scrunched up her nose at him and stuck out her tongue. Harry laughed. It wasn't often that he got to see this playful side of her anymore.

"Thanks for the tip, Auror Potter. I'm asking what prompted the change, thanks," she said.

"Oh, actually, it's a funny story," Harry said, and then launched into a short explanation of taking care of Teddy, how that meant that he reconnected with Malfoy, and then gave a brief summary of their short trip to Paris. "So really, you have Draco Malfoy to thank for these glasses."

Hermione frowned. "And the shirt?"

"No! The shirt was my own doing. I was getting slightly tired of my 'minimalist wardrobe' and so basically I just bought five white button downs. Did you know that ivory, cream, eggshell, pearl, and alabaster are all different colors? I didn't, but the clerk at the store seemed very insistent."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "So this was Malfoy's doing? As in, your rival, your archnemesis, the ultimate Slytherin to your Gryffindor?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Harry thought about it for a second. "I mean I guess that's how it used to be, but he's sort of changed, 'Mione. He's really turned his life around."

"Yes, I know, I read a small article on him in Witch Weekly a few years back," Hermione said. "I guess if you've managed to befriend him…" She was still looking at him with a strange look on her face.

Harry opened his mouth to say that no, they weren't friends, just not enemies, but then closed it. He supposed that they certainly acted like friends. They took care of Teddy together, sometimes they bought each other tea or lunch, and they sent regular correspondence - almost as regular as the letters Harry sent to Ron and Hermione - about all sorts of things. And Malfoy had bought him his glasses. So instead of speaking against that statement, he just nodded.

"Good for you," Hermione said.

"You think I should tell Ron?" Harry asked. "I'm afraid he won't take it well."

"No, he will as long as you don't make a big deal out of it," Hermione said. Her voice quieted and she leaned it. "He loves you like his brother, Harry. He would never want you to be unhappy."

And with that statement, Hermione turned and walked out of Harry's office, leaving Harry feeling both relieved and extremely confused.

oOo

The bell over the joke shop trumpeted happily, and Harry jumped. He would never quite get used to that.

"Ron?" he called, sure that his voice would be lost in the whirring and buzzing of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A cough emitted from past the Pygmy Puff cages.

"Over here!" That was Ron's voice for sure, albeit faint. Harry rolled his eyes and started the trek. He passed several groups of kids by the toys and pranks, and one group of giggling teenagers by the love potions who looked at him in a way that he didn't really like. He remembered getting those looks in Hogwarts sometimes. Lots of girls had looked at him that way before the Yule Ball. He swallowed thickly and pressed on, finally reaching his best friend.

"Mate, what's up?" Ron looked back at him from the top of a ladder, where he was grabbing a colorful box for a little boy next to Harry. "Hermione said you were stopping by!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak before Ron interrupted him. "I'm off in like five minutes, do you want to talk to George or something until I'm off? He's in the back."

He handed the box down to the little boy and jumped off the ladder as Harry nodded. Ron winked and gave him a thumbs up before dashing off. Harry watched him winding through the store for a second before heading into the back room, where George sat, reading a magazine.

"Harry! Mate, what's up?" George greeted, and gestured for Harry to sit across from him. "Ron tell you to come back here?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and sat across from him. He suddenly felt very tense, and didn't know why. He looked up to meet George's gaze, which was drilling into him. It felt sort of like Malfoy's piercing look, whenever he fixed it on Harry.

"What's troubling you?"

Harry shrugged in response. He wasn't sure what this needling feeling was.

"Have you… well… has something happened?" George looked away from him and paused. "You seem off."

"I mean, really the only thing is that I made a friend, and I'm not sure Ron's gonna like it," Harry said haltingly. That was the only real thing, he thought. The other thing was just a tingling feeling of - what, unease? - that had popped up.

"That's it?" George said in disbelief. "That's the only thing that's bothering you?"

"I think so."

George looked at him for a long moment. Harry felt his eyes on him, but refused to meet his gaze. Too often, lately, Harry had felt that people knew things about him that he hardly knew about himself. He was an Auror! One of the top in the department, Robards was always saying. If he couldn't keep anything about himself hidden, what would that say about him? He feared that if he looked up, and met George's insistent gaze, George would see everything within his soul.

"Harry, let me tell you a story." George pushed the paperwork on his desk away, and grabbed a small model bird that was tapping the edge of the table. He played with it for a moment, and then spoke up again. "Harry, you know that Fred… well, he swung both ways." He looked at Harry briefly and then continued. "I had a hard time coming to terms with it at first, and even after he told the rest of the family, everyone mainly ignored him. Mum kept asking him if he fancied any girls, the rest of us assumed that he was pranking us. No one acknowledged that he was bisexual, least of all me and Ron. We were closest to him, you know, and even though we never talked about it, we had always assumed that - eventually - we would grow up and work together, and our kids would play together. And if he married a man…" George paused and rested his head in his palm, still toying with the bird. "Well, I thought that we would never have that future." George looked up, and his eyes were watery. "I ignored it, Harry. I left him to deal with it all by himself, and he died thinking that his family didn't love that part of him. That I didn't love that part of him." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I don't think that Ron will care. After all that."

"I had no idea that was going on," Harry said slowly.

George laughed. "Well, as much as we love you, mate, you're sort of oblivious. Just sometimes." Harry cuffed him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to tell you."

"Thanks George," Harry said. "Um, it doesn't really apply in this case though, because I'm straight." _I think._

"Yes, of course." George gave him a small smile. "The point of it was that Ron - and Hermione, obviously - are always going to accept you. And whoever this friend is. That's just who they are." Harry sat there, sort of dumbfounded, as George stood up. "I think Ron's ready to leave," he added, and gestured Harry out of the backroom.

"Mate!" Ron grinned and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, guiding him out of store and into the bustling Diagon Alley. "Hermione told me you swinging by-"

"I'm friends with Malfoy," Harry blurted out, and then cringed. Ron stopped. Why had he done that so abruptly? Harry cursed himself silently. He really was an idiot.

"Draco Malfoy?" Ron said, slowly, at first questioning, and then as if he was deliberating on whether or not to freak out.

"Yeah."

Ron started walking again, Harry hurrying to keep up with his long stride. The redhead had let go of his shoulder and was staring off into space intensely. The pair were completely silent, a drastic contrast to the loud business of the street around them. Maybe he shouldn't have told Ron. He could stop, never talk to Malfoy again! Well, he couldn't do that, Andromeda had asked them to babysit together, but he didn't have to hang out with Malfoy outside of the babysitting hours, and he could stop responding to his letters…

"Okay," Ron said.

"What?" Harry stopped for a second, baffled, and then ran to catch up to his friend. "What do you mean, okay?"

Ron sighed heavily. "I'm not going to pretend to like it if he comes, around, okay? He was a prat to all of us during school, and I don't have to like him. But… I guess he was pretty awful to you mainly, and he called Hermione a Mudbl- ahem, that word… well, anyway," he continued uncomfortably, "If you and Hermione are okay with him now, then I guess I can stand a few jabs about my family. I don't have to like him, I just won't hate him."

Harry grinned. "Nice, mate. Taking the high road, I see how it goes."

"Doing it for you, mate." Ron winked at him. "You wanna come over for dinner tonight? You can help cook!"

"How gracious of you," Harry joked, but grabbed Ron's arm anyway as they neared the Apparition point.

"Hey, not my problem that you're a better cook than both of us."

oOo

"So George told you that story, huh?" Ron said. The two of them were sitting around the oak table in the dining room, staring into twin mugs of red tea that Hermione prepared. It reminded Harry of their times in Divination.

"Yeah." Harry tapped the side of his mug, and watched as the leaves at the bottom shifted. "Heavy stuff, man. I wish you had told me before."

Ron shook his head and took a long swig. "I didn't want you to be fussed about it. You were always preoccupied in those days, anyway, and seeing as I didn't even really think anything of it, I can't imagine I would have considered telling you." He looked down into his mug as well. "God, I could sometimes be such a prick back then."

"Sometimes?" Harry arched an eyebrow at his friend, and chuckled at his embellished reaction. "Nah mate… we were all like that. We were young," he said, and then frowned, remembering a time when Sirius had said those words to him.

"Yeah. Didn't stop us from conquering the Darkest wizard of the century, did it?"

"Ha, I guess."

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to Hermione and Rose giggling and shrieking in the distance. The shrieks got closer, and closer still, until Hermione and Rosie slammed into the opposite wall. Hermione's halo of hair seemed to crackle with the same electricity that was in her deep brown eyes, and she stared at her daughter as if in challenge, while still holding her at arm's length. Rosie balled herself up and then launched herself at Hermione's face, scrambling and clawing and yelling all the while. Harry jumped and moved to get up, and Ron motioned for him to sit back down.

"They're fine. They just like to goof around together." Rosie shrieked again. "I think."

The shrieks abated, and Hermione finally arrived at the table, panting, and a deep flush spreading across her face. Rosie law sprawled across one of the great armchairs behind them, equally exhausted.

"Wow," Ron said, and grinned at his wife. "I don't think I've ever seen the two of you that excitable at the same time."

Hermione straightened, patting her hair and adjusting her sweater, and pulled out a seat across from the two men. "Well, Rosie was restless after her nap. And I've had a boring week at work, I suppose." She coughed lightly, and turned to Harry. "Rosie doesn't normally behave like this, it's Ron's genes coming out in her. Normally she behaves - well - like that," she said, and gestured behind them, to where Rosie was quietly sitting, reading a massive book. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

"What are you reading, Rosie?" Harry called. He rarely got to interact with his goddaughter, and grasped most opportunities to relate to her in the slightest (this was rare, although they had played some excellent matches of Quidditch together with Ron).

"Hogwarts, A History, Uncle Harry," the little girl called.

"I can see who she takes after!" Harry laughed, and looked at Hermione, whose eyes were glittering with pride. Ron sighed.

"Well, I have no doubt she'll be campaigning for Troll rights in a few years," Ron said. "Speaking of unpleasant things - Hermione!" She had just kicked him under the table, and he glared at her. "Fine, things that _used to be_ unpleasant, how's Malfoy doing?"

"Oh. Um, I guess he's good." Harry shrugged, and then looked cautiously. Hermione was leaning forward excitedly in the same way that she used to when she was interested in a good book, and was avoiding his eyes in the same way that he used to when he was trying to keep something from Harry. "Guys, what's up? Do you not like that I'm hanging out with Malfoy?"

"Well, mate…" Ron said, at the exact same time that Hermione quickly said, "No, that's not it at all!" They snapped around to meet the other's gaze, and Hermione glared at Ron for a moment before Ron said, "No, mate, that's not it. I was joking."

"Um, okay," Harry said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" Hermione's voice was a little bit louder than normal, and it startled Harry into standing.

"I'll go check on the food?" Harry asked. Neither of them responded, and as he left the room to the adjoining kitchen, he heard a sudden flurry of whispering. Obviously, something was going on. He just didn't know what.

When he returned several minutes later, Ron and Hermione were sitting quietly, accompanied by Rosie, who grinned as he walked in. She looked so much like Hermione, Harry thought, and then looked at his friends, who were not looking back at him. He gave Rosie a kiss on the top of her head - she hummed happily at this - and then took his seat next to Ron again.

"The food will be ready in a few minutes," Harry said. He looked around as both of them seemed to come to life again.

"You know, mate, I never understood why you like Muggle style cooking so much. I mean, to not use any spells at all? Hm, that's hard," Ron mused and then smiled at Harry.

"I've heard that some people think that food prepared without the use of charms tastes better. That's why wizarding restaurants aren't all that common," Hermione answered.

"I can imagine! Remember when we were out on the run and Hermione prepared every meal for us? Ugh! Sorry, 'Mione, it wasn't bad, I didn't mean that," Ron said unconvincingly, in a terrible effort to console his pouting wife.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, it wasn't awful."

"I dunno, it was pretty bad," Hermione conceded. "Lucky for Rosie, Ron's learning to cook, not me." Rose looked up at her mother and grinned before going back to her book.

"I like Daddy's cooking," she said.

"And what about Mummy's?" Hermione prompted.

Rosie stuck her tongue out in response.

"I'm wounded," Hermione said tragically, and then laughed.

Harry grinned, and then stood as he heard the timer beep. "Ah! Chicken's done." Ron waved a hand at him, indicating for him to sit down.

"Please. I can at least plate it, even if I can't cook it." Ron stepped into the kitchen.

Hermione and Harry sat in silence for a moment. Hermione looked brooding, as if she thought she should say something but couldn't (as she so often did) and Harry had adopted an innocent expression, staring lazily out the window. He found that it wasn't best to prod her thoughts out of her, as it left her mainly irritated and him still in the dark.

"Oh!" She sat bolt upright, and Harry mirrored her, thinking this was the revelation he had been waiting for. "I just remembered, the Cannons game is tomorrow!" That was - most likely - not it. Harry sighed, and then brightened again at the prospect of spending a day with his friends.

"That's fun! Can I bring Teddy?" Briefly he thought that Malfoy might be upset, but wiped the thought away. Teddy was his godson, after all, and he had been in Harry's company far longer than Malfoy's. He could bring him to a bloody Quidditch game.

"Yeah, of course! Ron insisted on bringing Rose, and we have five tickets, so that's just fine!"

"Great!" Harry said, and Ron reentered the room, levitating four plates in front of him.

"Did you tell Harry about the game?" he asked Hermione, and then whipped around to look at Harry, the plates swiftly coming to rest near the intended spot. Ron didn't seem to notice. "They're playing the Holyhead Harpies, y'know. Gin's old team."

"I'm sure the Harpies will crush the Cannons," Harry teased. Ron crinkled his nose in response, and launched into a detailed discussion of what exact moves the Cannons could use to beat the Harpies. Hermione rolled her eyes in her typical manner, and Harry grinned. He couldn't wait.

oOo

It was eleven o'clock by the time he returned. He paused in the old doorframe, listening to the house creak and settle in the same way he did after a long case at work. It was an old man, this house. He inhaled the deep, faint musty odor and traveled up the well-worn stairs to his bedroom. The bedroom right under Sirius's, which he couldn't force himself to inhabit. He sat at the desk in the corner of his room and began to write.

 _Malfoy-_

 _I'm taking Teddy out tomorrow, just the two of us, if that's alright with you._

 _-Harry Potter_

Short and sweet. That would suffice. He sealed it up messily and opened his window, thanking his lucky stars that the owl who occasionally delivered his mail was sitting outside (no matter how much time had passed, he couldn't find it within him to replace Hedwig, much to his colleagues' chagrin). He shoved the letter at the owl and closed the window again as the owl took off with a hoot.

Now, the question remained. Should he wait for Malfoy to respond? Or should he sleep? He should probably wait, he thought, and stared resolutely at the ceiling. But it had been such a long day, and he had so much to think about with Ron and Hermione and George.

Before long, the darkness of sleep had taken him once more.

* * *

 **Ahh, so much terrible writing in one chapter! Who knew I could take so many liberties with our beloved characters; I do apologize for them being more than a bit OOC, and for all my head canons that I'm forcing onto the story. It's ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that you may be compelled to critique me? In the form of a review?**

 **In all seriousness though, I would love some reviews from you all about ideas for upcoming chapters. I'm having a bit of trouble with writer's block, and I would love it if you guys could send something my way. Love you all (and don't forget to follow/fave, if you'd like)!**


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter's a bit longer than normal, which means the next one will probably be quite short :(**

 **Also, many people have been asking me if I'll write something from Draco's POV, but I don't think I will for a while. The whole idea behind the** **story is that Draco's feelings are really obvious to everyone but Harry because he's an oblivious guy! Maybe I will in the final chapter but I haven't decided.**

 **(Thank you to everyone who gave me recommendations in the reviews! You all are my inspiration and I would love to hear some more ideas in the reviews!)**

* * *

He awoke to a beautiful day. The sky had banished all clouds, birds were singing; it was an ideal June day, and Harry felt more light-hearted than he had in a long time. As he got dressed, he began to hum a tune that he vaguely remembered Molly humming in his youth - Celestina Warbeck? - and he made yet another mental note to go see her.

As he swung out of bed, he saw the note. A slim piece of parchment, delivered in the middle of the night, that read only:

 _I, too, am otherwise engaged._

It could only be from Malfoy, but the letter didn't have any of the blond's usual flair. Plain, black ink, no signature, and the tawny owl was nowhere in sight. Harry shook his head and pulled a lock of his hair absentmindedly. The note sort of left a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe it was just his morning breath, but he felt stranger than usual. A little guilty? But how could he feel guilty about ditching Malfoy? He got out of bed and went about his day, but the unpleasant feeling did not leave him.

oOo

"It's a great day for Quidditch!" Ron said, shielding his eyes with his hand and looking up at the sky. He was fully decked out in Chudley Cannons gear, and had a little pennant flag in the hand that was raised in protection against the sun. The other hand was wrapped around Hermione, who had a Cannons sweater and was wearing a _Heathers_ -style scrunchie in her hair. She looked uncharacteristically casual, and Harry liked it. It reminded him of sixth year.

The three adults were standing in line while the kids rolled around in the grass somewhere nearby.

"I'm excited! For once," Hermione giggled.

"What sparked this incredibly change in you?" Harry questioned, in mocking tones. "The fun finally comes out of dear old Hermione? What is happening to this Earth?"

She scowled at him, and then grinned up at her husband.

"I have no idea," said Ron lovingly, looking down at her.

Harry mimed puking, and Teddy and Rosie - who had just run up to them - laughed. Ron cuffed the side of his head.

"Boys, play nice! We're at the gate now," Hermione said, and grabbed the tickets out of Ron's back pocket to give to the ticketmaster.

They have good seats; at least, Harry's pretty sure they're good. He hasn't been to a Quidditch match in a while, and to be quite honest, as long as he's watching the game, he's fine. But Ron seems pleased - puffing his chest out, and smiling down at the people that they pass - so Harry is pretty sure that they're good. He brought his Omnioculars (for Teddy, of course!) and he's ready to watch the game.

"Malfoy?" Harry hears Ron say this, and sighs heavily. Of course.

The platinum blond head in front of them turned sharply, revealing that it was, indeed, Malfoy. Bloody brilliant.

Malfoy's eyes grew wide, seeing Ron. Then Hermione. And finally, Harry. Upon seeing him, Malfoy's body clenched and his jaw set. His eyes turned steely, and Harry flinched.

"Weasley. Hermione."

"Hello, Draco," Hermione said, and Malfoy nodded. Ron was silent.

"And Potter. How delightful. Tell me, where is Teddy on this fine morning?" Harry caught the note of accusation in Malfoy's voice, and bristled. So they were back to this, were they? This rivalry?

"He's right here." Harry picked up the little boy next to him and ruffled his hair. "We're on a fun date with Uncle Ron and Aunty Hermione, aren't we?" Teddy giggled in response. "What are you doing here?"

"You said you were busy, so I found a way to occupy myself." He rolled his eyes and gestured at the pitch. "I do like Quidditch, you know. In some cases," here he sneered at Ron, "it is a gentlemen's sport."

Ron bristled and stepped toward Malfoy, but Hermione cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. She smiled at the blond, who gave a nod in return.

"Draco, how have you been? I recently read about that Replenishment Potion that you and your team are working to improve. The effects sound simply marvelous, except for the side effect of sleepiness. Have you tried peppermint?"

"Why, yes," Malfoy said, brightening. "Unfortunately, that hasn't been working - it got rid of the sleepiness, but increased headaches - so we're trying armadillo bile. Like in Wit-Sharpening Potions, you know? We're hoping it will make people more alert, while not causing nausea or any other uncomfortable symptoms. It won't taste good, sadly, but we're thinking that perhaps some African red pepper would balance that." He was animated now, waving his hands around in the air as if he was summoning each ingredient as he named them. "Then again… well, I just thought of this just now, but I could add some honeywater to it as well."

"And see if the effects would be the same as in Wiggenweld Potion?" Hermione covered her mouth and then looked up, eyes sparkling. "Well, that would be just brilliant! It might only work if you keep the mint, though."

Malfoy seemed ready to respond, but then Ron spoke up from behind them.

"Our seats are right up there, darling."

Hermione looked back at him, obviously irritated, but Malfoy smiled.

"Ah, excellent seats. Mine are up there as well." He swept up the steps and scanned the aisles before settling down.

Harry turned to Ron and grabbed the tickets, looking for their seat numbers. E13, 14, 15, 16, and 17. He looked back up at Malfoy, who was sitting distinctly in aisle F.

"Seat 15, Potter," Malfoy said, and smirked. "In case you were wondering." He leaned back and put a hand up to his face, sighing loudly. "Ah, what a view! Incredible that you could even afford these seats, Weasley."

Ron growled, low in his throat, but didn't make a move toward Malfoy. That, at least, was good. Harry rolled his eyes

Harry smiled mockingly and then beckoned the Weasley-Granger family and Teddy up to their seats, shepherding them in one at a time. Hermione seemed to think it best to put as much distance between the smug Draco behind them and the obviously furious Ron, and Harry wasn't about to disagree, so he slid in behind the two kids, coming to a stop directly in front of the blond.

"Couldn't get enough, could you, Potter?" he heard Malfoy hiss into his ear.

"Whatever, Malfoy," Harry spat. He wasn't quite sure why they had fallen back into this pattern; it had seemed to him that their schoolboy rivalry days were over, but he guessed that he had pissed Malfoy off more than he had thought. Poor, hurt, petulant Malfoy. He almost laughed aloud at the thought, and then composed himself.

"What a coincidence, huh?" Hermione said suddenly. He looked over at her and she was looking between him and Malfoy with a soft expression. Harry was taken aback by this - he rarely saw her like this, unless she was really happy with Rose or Ron. "This whole day has just been one big coincidence." She waved her hands in the air and sighed.

"What other coincidences have there been?" Ron asked, and Hermione just shook her head.

"You know," she said vaguely, and Harry really didn't know, but he nodded. She turned her head sharply, looking between Harry and Malfoy, and then focused her eyes on Ron. "Shall we go get snacks for the kids?"

"Erm, yes," Ron said sheepishly, and stood with a jerk. Hermione grabbed his hand and led him away, leaving the two men and the two kids alone.

"Potter-"

"Why are you such a jerk to Ron?" Harry said abruptly, without turning in his seat.

"What?"

"You heard me." The two kids next to him were roughhousing and generally not paying attention to the two of them, but Harry lowered his voice anyway. "If you're fine with me, and even with Hermione, why are you being such a bloody _arse_ to him? What did he ever do to you?"

"It's not that he ever did anything to me, Potter." Malfoy's voice was soft now, and Harry turned around to see him staring up at the sky, fidgeting nervously with his robe and biting his lip. "It's what I did to him."

Harry paused. He supposed that could be true, but…

"But you did… things… to us too. Me, and Hermi-"

"You two forgave me, Potter." Malfoy looked down at him now, and Harry saw that his eyes were paler than normal, and sort of watery. "You and Hermione forgave me, even if you never said it, and he," his voice cracked here, and he took a pause to compose himself. "He never did."

"No," Harry said, but his voice came out wobbly and sort of crackly, and he had to cough before he continued. "No, he forgave you. We all said we did, at the trials." He squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered that day - everyone tired, and bleak, and Malfoy sitting before the Wizengamot even more gaunt and pale than usual - and gave a shudder. Yes, he had cleared the name of Malfoy, for Narcissa, but he had still felt a cold anger in his throat a long time afterward. Not really anymore; that had cleared up, like a bad illness.

"No, you didn't, and you know it," Malfoy spat, and then his face softened again as he continued. "Hermione did it before you. Came up to me one day at the hospital and told me that she was sorry. Told me that she had heard about all the good work I was doing. Asked me to show her. And then she came back, day after day, for a solid month. Now it's been two years, and you've forgiven me. For Teddy's sake." He let out a small chuckle. "She always said when you forgave me, it would be for someone else, and not you. Self-sacrificing bastard." He paused again. "But she always said Ron would take the longest."

"I'll talk to him. I'll tell him," Harry said.

"No. You can force a man to say 'I forgive you,' but you can't force him to forgive." Malfoy sounded resigned.

Harry opened his mouth to say that no, he was wrong, but was interrupted by the arrival of Ron and Hermione.

"We're back!" Hermione explained, with popcorn in her arms and a silent plead in her eyes for Harry to understand. Ron was glaring at Malfoy, who responded with a sneer, and then leaned back in his seat.

"Just in time," the blond drawled. "The match is about to commence."

oOo

The Quidditch game was magnificent. Rumored to be a quick match, due to the Cannon's ability (or rather, inability) in the game, it was instead stretching out for hours, with each team playing marvelously. Now, in the first substitute break of the game, the adults were stretching their limbs under the deep blue sky, while Teddy wrestled with a little kid in the row in front of them, and Rosie perused Harry's copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages._ Harry wasn't sure that she could read, still, but he supposed she was quite advanced for her age, and who was he to deny a child of Quidditch?

"I told you they were good," Ron said, eyes sparkling, and gave a whoop of excitement. "Ginny said the Harpies would crush them, but they sure proved her wrong!"

"There's still time," Harry said jokingly. "I put major Galleons on the Harpies winning, so…"

"That's the right move, Potter," Malfoy's voice drawled from behind them. "The Harpies are quite superior, every season previous to this one has put them ahead of the Cannons in the rankings."

Ron stiffened and turned red, but did not make an effort to look at Malfoy in the slightest. Instead, he looked at Harry, and smiled tightly.

"I'll get you yet, mate," Ron joked, but it sounded strained in his effort to avoid Malfoy. "Did you see that Wronski Feint that Gudgeon pulled? Incredible!"

"You mean tried to pull," Harry said, trying to draw attention away from the man behind them. "Griffiths almost smashed him into the ground! They're going to get destroyed."

"Just you wait," Ron said. "We'll show you!" Malfoy scoffed at this and Harry tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Just because he knew why they were fighting didn't mean it didn't make him upset. He looked at Ron, who was practically boiling.

"Hey, mate, do you want to run and get some waters? Hermione looks thirsty." Hermione, startled, jumped a bit in her seat at mention of her name, and then nodded vigorously.

"Oh yes!" Hermione said. "Quite thirsty." Ron stood up cautiously, outwardly hesitant to leave them alone with Malfoy but finally left.

"Merlin, I'm sorry about that," Hermione said, immediately turning to face Malfoy. "Ron's in rare form today."

"It's alright," Malfoy murmured, and they sat in silence, listening to the ambient noise of the crowd around them. It was peaceful, Harry thought. Just him and Malfoy and Hermione and the whole world passing by around them. They must have been sitting there for several minutes, though, because too soon, Ron returned.

"Got your water, Hermione!" Ron grinned and tossed a bottle her way, almost hitting her in the head in the process. "Got something else too," he said as he winked at Harry; he scooped a girl out of thin air. "Harry, this is my third cousin. Or something," he said, nodding at the girl. "Her name's Tracey and she's a Gryffindor and she was like three years below us and I thought you two should meet."

"Ronald." Hermione glared at him, her nostrils flaring as they did sometimes when she was irritated. "Can I have a word?" The two rushed off, pulling the kids along with them, leaving Harry and Tracey together. Just the two of them. And Malfoy.

Harry looked at Tracey. She was a pretty girl, he supposed. Not impressive, in any way, but she seemed sort of like that 'girl-next-door.' Her hair was nice; a strawberry blondish color, and soft and thick. Her eyes were blue, and her skin was dotted with freckles. Not as many as a typical Weasley, but Harry could see how they were related. Third cousin indeed.

"You're Harry Potter." Tracey was staring at him, her pale blue eyes wide. They looked like Luna's eyes in this light, Harry thought, but instead of being open in wonderment at the world, like his dreamy friend, they were open at wonderment of Harry. His gut twisted. Just what he needed, another girl with a Savior complex. Brilliant.

"Yes." He smiled tightly and closed his eyes. It was dark behind his eyelids, although he could sense the pale sunlight beaming down on his closed eyes. This was sort of peaceful, he decided, not seeing, hardly feeling; only weak senses guiding him. Suddenly, as though he had been slapped, he felt as though someone's eyes were boring into him but he didn't know who. When he opened them again, who was standing in front of him but Draco Malfoy.

"Harry." He said it so softly, so quietly, that Harry wasn't even quite sure he had heard it. But sure enough, Malfoy's mouth had moved, and that one word had slipped out. Harry's name. Malfoy reached a hand down and Harry grabbed it almost without thinking; he didn't know what for. Malfoy's hand was so soft, and warmer than Harry had expected to be. He lacked the callouses that decorated Harry's own hands, and Malfoy's nails were longer than Harry's as well. They scraped into his wrist, pulling him in tighter, and Harry felt like he was grasping a lifeline. He wasn't sure who was supporting who, just that he could not, for the life of him, let go. He didn't want to.

"You're Draco Malfoy!" Tracey's voice cut into their moment, and Harry cringed. Ugh, why was she here? He turned to her to see her face screwed up in disgust (disgust at Malfoy?) and he was taken aback. "You're Lucius Malfoy's son! The Death Eater!"

"Tracey-" Harry began, and reached out his other hand to her, this girl he barely knew, but she was focused on Malfoy.

"You killed people!" Her voice was reaching peak shrillness, and people were starting to turn to stare. "And you… You dare touch HIM? Harry Potter?! The Savior, the Boy-Who-Lived? You're a piece of rubbish, Malfoy," she spat. "You bloody wanker, how dare you!?"

Harry felt himself growing incensed. His anger, a feeling similar to the time Aunt Marge insulted his parents, boiled within him, demanding to be unleashed. But no. Hermione was always saying to control his anger and his emotions rather than let them control him. He was fine. He was fine as long as Draco was fine -

And he obviously wasn't, apparently, because Harry felt their connection, their two hands, break apart. He turned just in time to see that gleaming pale hair disappear into the crowd. Malfoy was gone.

"Ugh, I can't believe they let his type wander around free." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Disgusting pigs. I can't imagine how you feel."

"You stupid-" Harry stopped mid-sentence.

"What?" Tracey said.

Harry looked at her. She looked suddenly confused, and childish, and Harry knew that he couldn't do this. Not now. "Go find Ron and Hermione." And with that, he disappeared into the crowd. He had to find Malfoy.

oOo

The sky had turned lilac by the time that Harry stumbled upon him. The Quidditch game was still going in full force, but Harry hadn't been watching for a while. He had focused himself with an intensity that he reserved for Auror training, and now; now here Malfoy was.

"Draco."

The muscles in his back tightened and then relaxed. He turned his head slightly.

"Is that how all your friends feel about me?" he said. It was more of a statement than a question, and his voice was frigid.

"She's not my friend," Harry said, and then realized he was practically shouting. "She's not my friend. I swear. Malfoy, I have, like, three friends. Hermione loves you."

"Ron doesn't like me." Okay, that was true. Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Since when do you care what Ron thinks? Or Hermione? Or any of my friends?" _Or me?_

"It doesn't matter." Malfoy said it harshly, spitting the words out, and Harry cringed.

"Listen, Malfoy," Harry said, and carefully laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. Malfoy tensed up, but Harry didn't remove his hand. "It doesn't matter to me if my friends like you, because I like you. So why would I care what they think?"

"You like me?" Finally, he really looked at Harry, and his gaze shot right through him. "You. Harry Potter. Like me?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry said. "We've been taking care of Teddy together for too long to not be friends, I think. Plus we hang out all the time."

"Of course. Friends," Malfoy said. His shoulders slumped, just barely, and he seemed ready to turn away. Harry was confused. Wasn't friends a good thing? He wanted to be friends, did Malfoy not want to be? He bit his lip and then made a quick decision.

"Do you… do you want to get pizza?" Harry asked quickly, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. "We could see a movie, too, if you wanted. We don't have to stay here."

Malfoy's eyes widened, and he flushed. He began to play with the buttons on his sweater, twisting them so rapidly and in such a nervous fashion that Harry was afraid that they would fly off. The blond looked down, biting his lip, and his hair fell into his face, obscuring his eyes from Harry's view. But then, just as quickly, Malfoy looked up again, running a hand through his hair, and smiled.

"Yes." His smile widened, and then he got himself under control. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Brilliant."

* * *

 **I hope you guys liked that! I was listening to The Decemberists'** ** _Sons and Daughters_** **during all the sentimental scenes, so they're a bit cheesy and remind me a fair amount of my romance scenes written in middle school.**

 **The bits with the potions ingredients took me so long to write, because I wanted to find ingredients that had actual useful attributes to the potions I was talking about. It literally took me hours but I did it for y'all! Also the names of the players are accurate (I think) so you can hold me to that.**

 **Also, never fear, Teddy got back to Andromeda safe and sound! Those two lovebirds aren't so irresponsible that they would just leave a little boy at a Quidditch game. Also Harry! How did you not realize that Draco wants you to like like him, not just like him? AHHHHH GET THAT DINNER AND A MOVIE AND ALSO HIS DICK**


	7. Chapter 7

**Another chapter that is only a little while after the previous one! I'm sorry I updated a day late…. Ah I'm sorry I want to update on time but art school is killer. Anyway it's short because I have an essay due tomorrow!**

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The pizzeria that Harry had chosen was small, but the food was good and besides, he wasn't planning on staying there very long anyway. It was close enough to his flat that they could pick up a pizza and just walk back, and that's all he needed.

"Mario's Pizza?" Malfoy scoffed beside him. "How cliche can Muggles get? Mario! Really."

Harry just chuckled and guided him inside. A bell tinkled and Malfoy scowled at the sudden bright lights and the orange walls. Harry, on the other hand, inhaled deeply and smiled. He loved the smell of pizza (although not as much as treacle tart).

"I'm going to just get my usual, I think," Harry said, and the girl behind the countered nodded at him and winked.

"Sure, Mr. Potter," she said. "And for you?" Suddenly, she was looking at Malfoy with big doe eyes, and Harry felt a sudden rush of anger. It abated quickly, but he was confused by the powerful emotion. Malfoy coughed beside him and stepped forward quickly.

"I'll have the arugula and chicken?" Malfoy asked, and the girl nodded at him, never taking her eyes off his slim form. Malfoy flushed and joined Harry.

"Hmm, she likes you," Harry laughed, but didn't really feel it. Malfoy's face went an even deeper pink.

"Yes, well. I couldn't be less interested." Malfoy coughed in embarrassment. "She lacks a certain aspect in her anatomy that I'm very much drawn to." He watched as Harry stared at him intensely, a confused look on his face. He stood like that for several seconds before Malfoy blurted out, "Merlin, Potter, I'm gay."

Harry burst out in a sudden fit of coughing that didn't really abate until the girl called their orders.

"Alright, Potter?" Malfoy said in amusement as he grabbed the two slices of pizza. Harry looked up, and now it was his turn to blush. At this moment, he thanked Godric for his darker skin.

"Yes, erm. Quite fine."

"Well, if you want to know more," Malfoy began, but Harry cut him off with a sharp cough.

"No." He shook his head, as if in a daze. "It's fine."

Malfoy's smile faltered.

He brought it up again, though, on the way back, and Malfoy's amused smile reminded him of Hermione's, on the night that she and Ron had come for dinner and drinks. _Are you interested in men, Harry?_ Hermione had the same kind of light in her eyes that Malfoy had right now.

"When did you know." He said it more like a statement, and didn't really clarify what he was talking about. But Malfoy seemed to know.

"Hogwarts, Yule Ball, Fourth Year." Malfoy laughed, a short bark. "It was one of the boys from Beauxbatons."

Harry's heart fell a little and he didn't know why. "Were you interested in other people after that?"

"Yes. Of course. Most of the boys were… not interested in return. Theo Nott and I shagged a few times." Malfoy paused here, and looked at Harry through his peripheral. Harry felt a sudden blaze of fury at Theodore Nott and then shook his head, as though to clear it. Malfoy continued. "It's hard, though. When you're a Death Eater, no one really wants to shag you. When you're gay, your father doesn't really want you to have control of the entire Malfoy fortune just so you can burn it away like some poof. His words, not mine," he said in a quick aside. "Anyway, I didn't want to really admit it to anyone, and one of my particularly nasty unrequited crushes," here he gave Harry a burning stare, "gave way into one of my most destructive streaks yet. Basically, all of sixth year."

Harry shivered. "Who was it?"

Malfoy stared at him in disbelief, and then laughed. "You're incredibly dense, Potter," he said, and then strode ahead. "Grimmauld Place is just up here, isn't it?"

"Draco," Harry called, but he was already up the steps and opening the door.

"You're a slowpoke, Potter!" he called, and disappeared inside the house.

Harry slowed, and shook his head, but he could not shake his unsettlement from his mind.

oOo

"You're acting so weird about it," Draco observed. The movie was flickering on Harry's Muggle television screen - some cheesy action movie that Draco had picked out - but the sound was low enough for them to talk in the background.

"Am not," Harry said.

"Yes, you are." Draco turned to him. "You have gay friends, right? Dean and Seamus, and Luna and Ginny?"

"They don't count," Harry said. And they didn't really, not to him. He couldn't care less what Luna and Ginny did in their free time (although, according to some people - the Prophet - he should care more what his ex-girlfriend was doing behind closed doors with her girlfriend), and neither Dean nor Seamus had ever sparked anything within him. So no, they didn't count. "They're just. They're my friends, Draco."

"Are you saying I'm not your friend?" Draco asked, sounding hurt. As Harry snapped his head to look at him, the blond laughed. "Kidding."

"S'not funny," Harry said, but he smiled too.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, allowing themselves to pretend to watch the movie in front of them. Harry counted six explosions before Draco turned to him again.

"So, since when am I Draco?" Ah. He had picked up on that pretty quickly.

"What do you mean? You've always been Draco, unless you changed your name at some point and I am caught unawares," Harry joked.

"You know what I mean," Draco said, and Harry was caught under his intense gaze once again.

"I dunno," Harry mumbled, and took a large bit of pizza, hoping to buy himself a pass. It didn't work, and Draco continued his stare. "Erm, why would I call one of my friends by their last name?" Even to himself, it felt like a fake question, and he cringed.

"I suppose," Draco murmured, but even though Harry trained his eyes back on the television screen, Draco's eyes didn't leave him for a long time.

At one point, another explosion blasted on screen, and the main character kissed a girl that he had pulled out of nowhere. At the same time, Draco crossed his legs and his foot skimmed Harry's leg and then they were touching. Just sitting there. Touching. Harry felt it in his bones and sighed a little. He had missed people touching him, he thought. He would have been happy to have anyone touch him, of course. The fact that it was Draco Malfoy didn't even matter. It was just the two of them sitting there, touching, and that was fine and normal and something friends did. So Harry didn't pull away and neither did Draco and they just watched the characters onscreen kiss while explosions went off around them. Harry had never been so happy.

oOo

The movie was over, and Draco moved. Harry felt a sudden cold on his leg, where Draco's foot had been, and shivered.

"That was alright." He reached for the television and Harry was struck by a sudden desire to make him stay.

"Tea?" he blurted, and Draco looked at him curiously before leaning back and nodding.

"Sure."

Harry stood up abruptly, nodded sharply, and practically ran to the kitchen. As soon as he got there, he leaned heavily on the counter. _What's wrong with me?_ He shook his head and put hot water on, listening to the way the water sounded when he poured it, when it bubbled. It was nice and calming. He wasn't sure why he needed to be calmed down, but he needed it all the same. He turned slowly and let out an embarrassing squeak as he realized Draco was right behind him, staring down at him through pale gold fringe.

"Some Auror, Potter," Draco smirked. "Didn't even hear me coming." He stared down into his eyes for a moment, silver meeting green, and then smiled. "What kind of tea have you got?" Without waiting for Harry to answer, he leaned up past him, pressing his side into Harry. Harry got another whiff of that cologne that had entranced him so much, and he breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering shut. Then Draco moved away, a strangled sound coming out of his throat, and Harry opened his eyes to see him, a box of Earl Grey in his hand, eyes wide, and pale face now beet red.

"Oh, erm. Sorry?" He wasn't quite sure what he had done wrong.

"Earl Grey is fine," Draco said loudly, and then threw the box on the counter. "I have got to use the loo."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said and vaguely gestured toward the door.

He stood there for a few minutes, trying to think of what he had done wrong, but all he could bring to mind was the smell of that bloody cologne and Malfoy's wide, pale eyes, his red cheeks, his long fingers gripping the tea. Bollocks.

Draco returned, with his coat around his shoulders, still a little pink.

"I daresay I should be headed home, Potter."

"What?" He didn't want Draco to leave, he really, REALLY didn't want them to leave, but he looked so embarrassed. And he would kill Harry if he tried to address it. Bloody wizarding honor and all that. "Okay, let me walk you out. Or would you like to Floo?"

"I'll walk, thank you. I could use the fresh air." Draco nodded.

The two of them wandered out of the kitchen, Harry trailing a bit behind Draco, watching his bowed head and slumped shoulders. It wasn't very obvious, but Harry had noticed it. They stopped in the entryway, as Draco brushed some imaginary lint off his shirt. He looked back up at Harry now, and he didn't look embarrassed any longer. Just sort of brave, Harry thought, and his eyes were dark. He leaned in, and Harry tensed up, but Draco just paused.

"Until next week, Potter," Draco whispered in his ear. Harry felt shivers down his spine that continued long after the door had closed, and he recognized Draco's magic mark lingering in his entryway. That night, he sat on those stairs for a long time.

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 **Was that abrupt as heck or what? I didn't edit hardly at all because I just wanted to get it out into the public before I have to force myself to work on this bloody essay :((( Also I might not update next week so I can bring you guys an extra long chapter that I've been working on! Let me know what you guys think.**

 **Anyway DRACO IS GAY (no duh) and he is coming on to Harry pretty hard and Harry is being a little oblivious fucker. I just want to shake him sometimes. Harry! Notice Draco!**

 **Anyway, please review! My lonely college student ass would appreciate it (I love seeing reviews from you guys, comments or** **criticism or otherwise)! Your reviews keep me alive.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey y'all! I'm so sorry for my super long break, I just have had such a hard time with the final semester of college. It's crazy! I really appreciate all of your kind words and everyone who faved this story.** **Obviously not everyone likes it, as I got a pretty harsh review! but as much as I like constructive criticism (I do!) please remember that I am just doing this for fun. I am not a writer in any sense and I am just doing this purely for trying to write more as a personal goal. I'm sorry if you don't like how I write, or what characteristics I assign to my characters, but that's my choice. Please let me live**

 **Also I got a couple of DMs about my personal blogs and such (I can't believe it! I feel like a celebrity) and you can find me at iridescentgloss . tumblr . com. Thanks to the people who asked, I'm really honored.**

 **Anyway, on to the Drarry! And also Teddy is back in this chapter**

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"You haven't met Pansy yet." Draco was complaining, as usual, and Harry rolled his eyes. "She's changed," he said.

She had changed, Harry guessed. Still ever the collector of gossip, Pansy Parkinson had become the editor-in-chief of the Prophet and had picked her reputation off the ground in the years following the war. Famously known as the tycoon who had remade The Prophet into the number one newspaper again (and supposedly Draco Malfoy's best friend, according to the tabloids) she ran her business with an iron fist.

"I don't really care to meet her," Harry said, in mock annoyance. He really didn't care so much, but the thought of seeing her again haunted him still. He could still picture her sallow face as she stepped forward. Young and weak and eighteen, but still a person. Someone he would have to confront, eventually. He shivered.

Draco turned away from him, not saying anything, but the way that he clattered the pan against the tile made Harry feel guilty.

"I am currently in the process of being friends with all your friends," Draco said. Ron being the exception. "You could at least make an effort with Pansy."

"She doesn't want to be friends with me," Harry snorted. "She just wants to be able to say that she can get exclusive access to the Chosen One's inner thoughts again." Harry had sold that right to the Quibbler right after the war, and was consistently being rewarded with articles in which he traversed Europe, looking for Nargles and the like. The most recent article on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and the role they played in the Auror department had been life-changing. Harry snickered, and recalled that he should hang it in his bedroom.

"It's not a laughing matter!" Draco's voice snapped Harry out of his reverie.

"I'll think about it," Harry said, and grabbed Draco briefly on the shoulder, causing him to tense and then slowly relax. Ever since the incident of a few weeks ago, the two of them had been very careful. Harry could sense the tension, could feel the way that Draco's magic flared up when Harry approached, but he wasn't sure why any of it was happening. Then again, he really wasn't sure why anything happened with Draco now. He supposed that yes, he really had changed - he had to admit that, didn't he, when they were able to go a whole hour without cutting remarks - but he didn't know why. He snuck a glance at the other man. His body was relaxed, running vegetables under the water gently, and as he turned them over his long fingers moved with them gracefully. His gaze was concentrated, just as Harry remembered him back in Potions class (when he wasn't sneering at any of them, of course). Harry turned back to the stove, exhaling on another sigh.

"Does Teddy even like stir fry?" Draco asked, in a voice that suggested that he didn't want to talk about whatever had just happened.

"Just because it's not a food for royalty doesn't mean that a member of the Black family won't eat it." Harry laughed. "Bloody pureblooded prat."

"I am not a prat," Draco said, and flicked his wand at Harry. A piece of limp onion landed on his glasses.

"Oh, you're on." Harry grinned and leapt at Draco, pinning to the ground and whispering spells to make the stir fry and all the spices in his kitchen come down with a fury on that white blond head. Draco's wrists were pinned under his hands, writhing around so much that Harry could feel his blood pumping under his palms. Harry kept him down for a bit, but the ferocity of the Quidditch days came back in an instant, and Draco flipped him over, gaining the upper hand. Harry yelped and kept whispering the spells, only stopping as his wand rolled out of his hand and he was forced to look up at a smirking Draco.

"You're not the only one who can use Expelliarmus, Potter," Draco said softly.

Harry didn't reply, instead electing to stare at those ridiculously long, insanely blonde eyelashes that framed those silvery eyes. Like pools of water in winter, he thought. The light danced on them in a way that reminded him of that night that Ron returned to him, that he had seen the doe patronus, the night he had almost drowned in that cold forest. A shiver went through him again. Draco seemed to be getting closer. And closer.

In the room next to them, the Floo flared up, and the two of them let out a collective sigh.

"Harry?" Andromeda's voice called, and he scrambled up as Draco leapt off him, immediately murmuring cleaning spells on the two of them. Harry dashed into the room to see Andromeda looking at him curiously. He swallowed thickly.

"Hey 'Dromeda," Harry said. "How are you?"

"Hello, Harry," she said, and looked at him curiously. She didn't say anything though, as Harry picked a piece of zucchini out of his hair, nor did she say anything as Draco walked through the door, still casting _Scourgify_. She only nodded vaguely in Draco's direction and gave a little grin, as if she knew something they didn't.

"How's Narcissa been?" Harry asked. He felt uncomfortable, which her staring at him. "You can come through the Floo, by the way, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." She nodded and then hopped through, pulling Teddy along with her. He was unnecessarily quiet, and hardly looked up at Harry as he greeted him. Andromeda shook her head.

"He's been like this for a few days," she said. She bit her lip in concern. "I haven't the faintest idea what to do. It's not a…," here she lowered her voice, " _normal_ sickness, you know."

She nodded at the two of them, and Draco gasped in surprise. Harry looked between Draco and her, irritated that they both understood each other and he didn't. He scowled, and nudged Draco in the ribs. The taller man sighed, turning, and Harry tried to communicate that he didn't understand. Draco got it, obviously, because his eyes widened and he tugged Harry closer to him. Harry still didn't get it, and Draco sighed and pulled him still closer, hissing in his ear now.

"His father. It's the full moon."

Harry pulled away abruptly, and looked at the downtrodden little boy lying on his couch too quickly to notice the look that passed between Andromeda and Draco. He quickly strode over, making it in only a couple of strides, and knelt beside him.

"Oh, hey Teddy." He brushed aside the mousy brown hair that flopped in his eyes. Just like his mother, Harry thought, and felt very sad all of a sudden.

"Hi, Uncle Harry." Teddy was lying across the couch, playing with a loose piece of thread that had come off one of the pillows. His eyes were dull and lifeless, not the bright green that they normally were. Harry sighed and pushed the hair off his face, realizing that his head was cold and clammy. He immediately looked to Andromeda, who was watching in concern.

"How long has he been like this?" Harry demanded, and leapt to his feet. "I - I have tea in the kitchen. I'll get some. It's chamomile." He looked pleadingly at Andromeda. She held his gaze for a moment and then shook her head, biting her lip.

"It's only been a bit. And I don't know what to do," she said, looking at Draco. Her normally calm demeanor slipped, and in that moment, as Harry looked at her, he saw the fear that was present in her eyes. It was wild and crazed, and Harry was sort of taken aback by how strongly she looked like her insane sister. She reached for Draco swiftly, taking his arm, and Harry had to restrain himself, saying that this wasn't Bellatrix, the war is over, this is Andromeda. A fearful Andromeda. She spoke again, this time in a murmur. "This - this wasn't supposed to happen, and I can't give him Wolfsbane yet, it's too strong, and what if he's too young, it's never been tested like this- "

"Andromeda." Draco murmured this, his voice coming out deep and gravely and full of some sort of emotion. Harry had already run back to Teddy, but at this word he turned. He didn't think that he had heard that tone from him ever, and it jolted him to his core. "I might have a solution."

"Oh, darling, what?" Her hands clutched at his sleeve, pulling him, stumbling, closer to her.

"A…. variation of Wolfsbane." He spoke this quietly, so much so that Harry had to strain to hear. "Someone in a different medical group theorized that it was possible, but I honestly have no idea." He paused and then began chewing on his lip with a fervor There are some versions that lower the effectiveness by lessening the amount of ingredients, but I have no idea if that's prudent. I suppose I could try some things. I haven't experimented with potions in a while but I'll do my best. I'll have to find a place to work, as I can't really use work because this potion is … unsanctioned at best, but I'll find a place."

"Oh, Draco."

Harry stood, a million thoughts going through his mind. Everything seemed to battle everything else in his mind for his attention at the moment - his memories of Remus, especially near the full moon, resurfaced - and he seemed to develop a raging migraine. The one thing that was truly present was an image of Teddy, as worn-down and haggard as his father. Harry's jaw clenched, and he whirled on the pair, who seemed finally re-alerted to his presence. Andromeda clutched a hand to her chest, and Draco's pale eyes widened.

"I have, I have extra rooms upstairs." They didn't seem to understand right away, and Harry sighed with frustration. "I know it's not quite legal, and I know I'm an Auror, but take one of the rooms. For Wolfsbane."

It was a clipped speech, and not really an inspiring one at all - nothing like what Harry said to his battalion before a raid - but Andromeda's eyes went soft, and although she kept her composure, there was a certain wavering in her voice.

"Thank you, Harry. I know that this is tough." She looked up at the tall man next her and reached up to grab his gaunt should. "Draco. You have no idea how much this means."

Draco's eyes flicked briefly to Harry before looking back at Andromeda.

"I imagine I have some idea."

Andromeda nodded, looking between them, and then rushed over to Teddy. She laid a quick kiss on his forehead, at which he stirred, and then stood and placed a hand on Harry's cheek. It seemed for a brief moment as if she was about to say something, but instead turned and walked brusquely over to his fire. She gave one last glance to the room and disappeared from the fireplace. Harry watched as the green flames danced lazily and died, replaced by a flickering warm glow. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in, and then became suddenly aware of long, cool fingers against his wrist. He looked up at Draco, who was standing next to him.

"We'll find a way," said Draco, and Harry chose to believe him.

Harry believed him as he sank down onto his knees next to Teddy, leaving Draco behind, pressing his forehead against Teddy's clammy one. He believed him even though every time he closed his eyes, the image of Remus Lupin transforming into a wolf in his third year burned into his eyeballs. He barely registered the rustle of Draco settling in next to him, talking softly about potion ingredients.

"There's a possibility that the valerian root is too harsh, or that the wolfsbane needs to be picked before or after the full moon, I suppose that would do it …"

Harry quickly tuned him out, allowing his attention to return to Teddy. He loved him so much, he thought as he brushed hair out of the little boy's face. No one and nothing would hurt him, Harry and Draco would ensure that. And his life would not be the same as his father's, Harry swore it. This little boy would be loved. With that thought, he caught Teddy up in his arms and carried him to the kitchen, promises of reading Beetle the Bard and chamomile tea floating along behind them.

* * *

 **I am truly dead. Thank you again for all your kind words, and to a couple of reviewers who kind of gave me the idea for Andromeda knowing that something is going on, thank you thank yoU! You are all so sweet and the best readers anyone could ask for. I hope that now that it's summer, I can update more often for you all!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Guys, I am so sorry about the long update time! I thought that when summer started, I would have more time to write! Which was true, I just** **didn't. I am working a lot so I just elected to chill when I got home. I did start working on a Linny fic, which I think I'm going to integrate into the next chapter and probably post on AO3 when I'm done. Anyway, here's the update! Hope you enjoy.**

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Teddy spat another portion of applesauce onto the ground. Normally, when Harry fed him applesauce - homemade from the apple tree in the backyard of Grimmauld Place and heavily seasoned with cinnamon and sugar - Teddy ate it up eagerly and always asked for more. So when Draco had asked what would be an easy food to spoon feed Teddy, Harry had an answer. The valerian root, however, that was a necessary part of Wolfsbane (according to Draco) was bitter enough to shine through, and they were both getting sick of Teddy's reactions. Teddy blew another raspberry at the offending sauce and Draco spun, in fury, upon Harry. It was the thirteenth time that day, and Harry had started getting sick of the temper tantrums the first time that Draco had thrown one.

"It's your fault he won't eat it, you insisted on having him try 'real applesauce' beforehand, that was an idiot move, go shove some applesauce up your -"

"Oh my LORD, you are an adult and supposedly some great bloody potioneer, why don't you go a mix yourself a Draught of Endless Sleep or whatever the bloody fu -"

"A Draught of EVERLASTING Sleep, you idiotic twat, and I wish I could, just so I could get away from you and your miserable whining, I'm trying my best, and it would be going a lot better if you hadn't alerted him to the fact that valerian root is bitter as Merlin's tit -"

"Nearly Headless Nick could tell that valerian root is bitter in his sleep, it's not my fault it's bloody disgusting -"

"Ghosts don't sleep, stupid, haven't you ever read -"

"Oh so now you're making fun of me for being uncultured? Funny, maybe I should call Hermione and ask her who was first in the class -"

"It certainly wasn't you, you Quidditch-obsessed -"

"Stuck-up!"

"Stubborn!"

"Uptight!"

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Teddy whined. It was clear and loud, and Harry's eyes immediately went wide as he whirled around. A pool of dribbled vomit surrounded him on the floor, and Teddy was sitting in the middle, staring down at it in distress. He looked up at the pair and whined again, and Harry's heart broke. They had been fighting, and they hadn't even noticed… hadn't been there for Teddy… Harry wavered for a moment before casting a quick cleaning spell and striding over to the cabinet for tea, as Draco rushed to Teddy's side, stroking his now mousy hair and murmuring in his ear.

"God, Draco, what are we doing," Harry whispered, leaning against the counter with three cups of tea. It was less of a question than it was a statement. He really didn't know what he was doing, here, with Draco Malfoy (his sworn enemy!) and his godson.

"We're … learning, Potter," Draco said, uncertainty lacing the edges of his voice and affecting the way his eyebrows leaned upward in a worried expression. "We're growing."

"What does that mean?" Harry snapped.

Draco stood, bearing a worried expression. "Harry -"

"No, I'm serious." Harry bit his lip, looking at Teddy. The closest thing he had to a child, the most important thing in his life - if Teddy was going through a hard time, then so was he, and it was his job to make it easier. And if he was too distracted by Draco to do that… "Can you leave?" He looked up at the other man, who looked stunned. "I'm sorry, I just need - I need a moment."

"Um." Draco looked like he was on the verge of being furious for a moment, and then stopped. Looked down and turned around. "Yes."

Then he was gone, and Harry clutched Teddy tight to him, as if the little boy were an anchor, as Teddy whined and sniffled in his arms.

oOo

The days kept going by, and everything was different. Everyday, Harry called on Andromeda, asking about Teddy. His situation fluctuated depending on the phases of the moon, but they had not seen the worst possible outcome yet. Then Harry would Floo to the Ministry and spend the next 8 hours in nail-biting anxiety, waiting for Andromeda to call and tell him the worst. When that didn't happen, he would sit in his office and wait. It would already be five, and he told himself that he just wanted to avoid the busy Floos, but really he was just avoiding Draco. Draco, who, as soon as his shift at St. Mungo's was finished, would apparate to Grimmauld Place and run upstairs to the lab that he had built in Harry's spare bedroom. Then Harry would return home (after picking up Teddy) and would ignore the light sound of explosions above them and Teddy's questions of where was Draco.

And still they were not speaking.

It made Harry sad, in a strange, unexpected way. Although he had anticipated sadness when he had cut Draco off (at least for now), he had expected a version sort of like when Ron stopped speaking to him. The sort of sadness that he could pretend wasn't there, as long as he wasn't alone. But this was different. A subtle ache behind his ribcage and a sudden distaste for food sent him to the Auror infirmary, courtesy of his team, but nothing was wrong. The nurse sent him off with a gentle pat, and a sympathetic smile, and that was that. Harry went back to feeling like shite, and pretended that the absence of Draco wasn't the cause.

Thank Merlin for Ron and Hermione, who always understood, for better (in Hermione's case) and for worse (in Ron's).

"He's a speccy git, Harry, and you'd be good to remember that there's no reason to be hanging around with him. You two fought plenty in school, why'd you think this year would be any different?" Ron lounged against the doorframe in Grimmauld's living room, his bright blue eyes opening wider as he remembered their Hogwarts days. Duels. Probably Hermione punching Draco.

"He perfectly does have a reason to be 'hanging around him,'" Hermione would say in response. She stood perfectly straight, her arms crossed tightly around her, glaring at her husband. "They're taking care of Teddy! Not to mention-"

"Oh please," Ron said loudly, "you know you're totally fishing about that, and also, Teddy is not their kid! Andy's taking care of him, and you know that she could do a bloody fine job without the two of them" - here he gestured toward Harry - "acting like a married couple all the time! You know Andy's encouraging it! And, honestly, you are too! You're fishing, that's all it is, absolute reaching."

"Okay, excuse me, I am not fishing, there are signs -"

"Yeah, so? I saw the _signs_ first, and they're only coming from, from," Ron stuttered a bit here, turning red and waving his arms before continuing, "and there's no reason to believe they're reciprocated!"

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione said quietly, and then pointed in Harry's direction. "This isn't a sign? He's more depressed than Moaning Myrtle! I'm surprised that he hasn't just died from not taking care of himself, let alone the signs!"

"What?" Harry said, and both Ron and Hermione jumped, almost like they had forgotten that Harry was in the room. "What signs?"

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, and rushed to him. He must've involuntarily flinched, bc she stayed a little bit away, her hands outstretched but not quite touching him. "Nothing, we didn't mean anything by it, it's fine."

"No, it's not!" Harry could feel anger rising in him and he didn't quite know why, but he didn't try to control it - this was the strongest emotion that he'd felt in weeks, and he clung on to it, desperately. "It's not bloody fine, I can feel everyone tiptoeing around me and no one's quite honest anymore and it's fucking awful! Ron's the only one who acts normal around me and even he seems like he's hiding something, which is absolutely insane. I can feel myself going absolutely batshit crazy about this and it's affecting my work, I can't focus, and it's affecting my relationship with you, and, and…" he stood up, and kicked his chair, hard. "I can't stand it."

He turned to face Ron and Hermione, who stood very still behind him, shock written on their features.

"I'm going to go stay with Luna and Ginny."

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 **Was any of that OOC? Was _all_ of it OOC? I guess we'll never know (unless you think it was/wasn't and decide to leave a review about it)! Anyway... hope you liked the update! Sorry it was a bit short. Love you all and appreciate every single one of you delightful readers!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Can you believe it took me this long to write a thousand words? Sorry, being back at school is killer. Also (between essays and projects and shit) I've started writing a Linny fanfic and running an It blog on Tumblr, so making drawings and edits for that is kind of time-consuming. ANYWAY I am so sorry and I hope you all like this and I AM SO SORRY I LVOE YOU ALL**

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The decision to stay with Luna and Ginny was either a very good one or a terribly awkward one.

At the exact moment Harry arrived at Lovegood Cottage in Northern Ireland, it seemed like a terribly good one. It had been absolutely pouring in London, and now he had just Apparated straight into a sunny paradise. The fields were incredibly green, the sky ahead of him was enjoyably blue, and when he looked behind him, he saw the raging dark clouds over England fading into the distance. He smiled quickly before turning and seeing Xenophilius at the front door.

That was the start of the awkward feeling. This continued as he sat in the dining room, listening to Ginny talk. Every time he saw her, she sounded more and more like her girlfriend, more soft spoken. But still as stubborn as ever.

"You seem like you're running away from something." She poured a pinkish tea into two chipped mugs and handed one to Harry. Luna wasn't home at the moment, apparently she had to go down to the lake - excuse him, the _loch_ \- to visit the Loch Ness Sea Serpent every so often. Harry took a sip of tea and grimaced. Gah. Rose-hip.

"I'm not," he said shortly, and set his tea aside. "I mean, I suppose I am a little bit."

Ginny's stare bored into him, and he looked at the ground. He heard her sigh, and heard her chair scrape back, and when he looked up, she was in the doorway.

"I suppose you're allowed to run away. A little bit." She looked at him softly, a look that he remembered Mrs. Weasley giving him often when he was young. "Merlin knows you haven't done that enough in your life."

He nodded and she walked away, her footsteps fading quickly in the muffled atmosphere of the cottage.

He sat there for who knows how long before Luna walked in. Dripping wet, her long blonde hair weighed down and tangled, a long dress obviously hastily pulled over her slim form, she was a sight standing in the doorway. Harry immediately scrambled up and poured her some of the tea that was in the tea pot from when Ginny had prepared it, but it had long since grown tepid.

"Ah, thank you, Harry," Luna said. She smiled at him and took the tea cup. After sitting down in the wooden chair that Harry had just vacated (Harry quickly took the velvet chair across from it with one leg that was, strangely, too short) she sat, sipping her tea and staring intently into his eyes.

Harry coughed.

"Something's amiss." She waved her hand in his direction and her bracelets clinked. "Your energy is off. Perhaps it's Nargles," she said, and here he regained some semblance of his good humor - he had missed Nargles, and Humdingers, and the like. "But perhaps it's something bigger, Harry. The stars really make a difference, and Venus is in retrograde."

"You sound like Professor Trelawney, what's next, checking my tea leaves," Harry joked, and then sobered after Luna gave a light laugh without taking her eyes off him.

"I always thought people dismissed her too soon," she said seriously. "People dismissed me in the same way. You're doing it right now, Harry."

He coughed awkwardly.

"I'll say what needs to be said, if that's necessary." Luna looked at him and pushed some of her dripping hair behind her ear. "You needn't be afraid."

"Luna, no."

Ginny was suddenly standing in the door. She was framed by golden light, and Harry felt a pang in his chest as he looked at her halo of fiery hair, a pang for the way that things had been. But then he looked at her, really looked, and saw how she was looking at Luna. A face full of defiance and stubbornness, and beauty, and fondness, the way she used to look at him. And then he looked at Luna, who (although Ginny had just defied her) was looking at her with a face full of love, and hope, and really just pure adoration.

He hadn't looked at anyone like that in a long time. The way Hermione and Ron looked at each other, the way Dean and Seamus looked at each other, the way that Ginny now looked at Luna, and now -

"The way he looks at you," Luna said, and Harry looked up to see that they were now both looking at him. Ginny turned her head sharply to look at her girlfriend.

"Luna, no!"

"Can you hear my thoughts?" Harry blurted, and Luna laughed.

"No, Harry. Just read your face."

And then she jumped up and tucked herself under Ginny's arm (who didn't really care that she was wet, it seemed) and the pair drifted off into the cottage, laughing and scattering light kisses in the air as they went.

oOo

He didn't really see the two women a lot. They had their own things to be doing, which suited Harry just fine. Ginny was most often preoccupied with her Quidditch career (she was apparently being scouted by other teams, and the Harpies weren't too pleased) and Luna was often off somewhere in the rolling hills of Ireland, performing moon magic when the time was right and visiting strange creatures with names that sounded like he was coughing up a hairball when he tried to say them. And when they were home, they were most often with each other. Which was fine. Totally fine. Except that left Harry with Xenophilius, and that was always uncomfortable.

Xenophilius didn't talk a lot these days, which was fine! But it was increasingly disconcerting to be eating, and look up and see Xenophilius, or to be sleeping on the couch, and to be awakened by a nightmare and see Xenophilius preparing a cup of rose hip tea. With moondew and honeywater.

"Here." He would say it in that ever constant tone of his that he and his daughter shared. "For the nightmares."

And then he would walk away.

Of course, he probably had a lot of issues dealing with nightmares. Ginny and Luna had been as present in the war as he had been, and he imagined that Xenophilius had made them many cups of rose hip tea.

But it was still strange, even compared to the strange habits of the Lovegoods that Harry was used to.

In the end, Harry decided to leave. It had been nice, and the rolling hills of Northern Ireland suited the hermit in him just fine, but he had responsibilities. Sending away owls from the Ministry, Hermione, Andromeda, and Molly Weasley daily was getting old, and even Ron seemed to be getting on his case after the first week. So he left, waving to Ginny and Luna as the Portkey whirled him away, depositing him (finally) back into foggy London town, the steps of Grimmauld Place beneath his feet and piles of letters at his door.

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 **Good? BAd? leave a comment and maybe i'll do something about my terrible writing. lmao no i won't. anyway idk if y'all are fans of It but drop me a DM if you are bc I'm obsessed. also next chapter will be extra juicy, it's something that i've been working on since the beginning of this pic but it will hopefully seem very sudden and unexpected. thanks :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**I am so sorry it took me so long to update. College is kicking my ass. I'm not quite even sure I'm going to finish this, but if not, I'll try to give it as proper of an ending as I can. I promise.**

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Getting back to work was a routine well-missed. Harry hadn't even realized this (while he was wandering the moors of Northern Ireland, not much else was on his mind other than the rather large onion, slightly moldy, that Luna had forced into his pocket to ward something off) but he really did miss it. It was easy to put his nose to the grindstone, falling back into his natural position as leader of his team.

 _You'll never be at peace,_ a little voice nagged inside his head.

He tried his best to ignore it and just kept working.

In spite of this hard work, though, the Yorkshire Case was not going anywhere. It was the longest case that Harry's team had held in the past year. While he wasn't about to just give up on it, he wasn't exactly jumping with joy when Robards had come in and told him he had to keep the case active for the next six months. The case was dead, they all knew it. It had been a gang of wizards defacing the sides of public places in wizarding communities with the Dark Mark. The case had come to a head when four Crups were found murdered, and _Morsmordre_ cast above the houses. Nothing had developed in the cases since then - beyond an occasional copycat marking - and Harry had no idea why they were still focusing their energy on this, especially when Ron kept saying his team had more than they could handle with their issues on their cases.

It was shaping up to be a long day.

"Auror Potter," the older man said, bowing his head respectfully. Harry sighed. Sometimes he got really sick of that shit.

"Yes?"

"They have a suspect in custody. A Death Eater." Harry jerked his head up, and he thought he could feel his heart beating faster. His senses narrowing. Adrenaline rush.

"Yes." Harry stood quickly, rushing to grab his cloak.

As he walked quickly through the halls of the Ministry, his cloak billowing behind him, his mind was going a mile a minute. This case had been on for weeks, and so far they had seen no hope for conclusion - only a host of dead ends that had at first seemed like they were going somewhere. If his team had apprehended someone? That was a good sign.

"Harry!" a voice shouted from somewhere behind him, and Harry cringed. Ron. He turned briefly, still backing carefully toward the containment cells.

"Sorry, Ron, I can take a second to chat later, but they've apprehended someone for the Yorkshire Case, and I really can't talk," Harry said.

"Harry, I told them that it wasn't him, but they didn't believe me," Ron said, out of breath now from running. "They took him in anyway."

"I'm sure my team did a fine job, Ronald." Harry drew himself up to his full height (not even close to Ron's 6'4", but he did well enough), and drew his cloak around himself. It was rare that Ron insulted his team like this, and normally he did so in jest. The two Auror teams liked to joke around with each other about the other's incompetence, but this was something else. Ron was pretending to be really serious. Ron's eyes widened, and filled with an unfamiliar anger.

"I'm not kidding, Harry." His jaw clenched. "But fine. Whatever." He sort of lingered for a moment, a conflicted look on his face, and then turned, muttering down the hall.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued onward. Ron's behavior was unusual, sure, but it didn't deter the spark of excitement that he was feeling. He hadn't been expecting to close this case so soon after he got back - things like this always seemed to involve some pureblood circle or another that was buffered by a million people. It was rarely ever simple, but after the trail had gone cold … well, he hadn't been expecting to close this case, and what a rush it was. He was feeling something else too, supplementing the fire inside him. It was an intense aura from the containment units. He could feel the magic rolling off from the cells, huge and powerful and dangerous and sort of…. familiar? This aspect confused him, as he didn't generally consort with those types (unless this was someone who had been apprehended before) and thus he didn't have any reason to be familiar. _Probably just Ron's trace,_ he thought, and nodded succinctly to himself.

"Auror." The guard at the entry to the containment units nodded. "Entry number please."

"59511," Harry said.

"What color were the Minister's robes on your first day," the guard said, and Harry rolled his eyes. He was getting terribly antsy. While he absolutely understood the usefulness of asking all these questions, trying to recall the answers was bloody boring, and he had never had Hermione's exact recall.

"Red," he said, and smiled as the door slid open with a creak. The dungeons down here weren't very well kept, and he made a mental note to talk to the Department of Ministry Upkeep about this. The air immediately felt a little colder, and two of his unit joined him as he stalked down the dark corridor. His heels clicked on the the floor, and he felt proud of himself, cutting an impressive figure. He smirked, and then looked at his team out of his peripheral. "Information?"

"Subject found in the general area of the last raid. Former Death Eater, you know the drill. Apprehended at 22:37 last night. Pretty young," a younger woman - new to the team, Pritchett - said, smirking. Harry leaned forward, desperate to hear more information. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly - everyone knew of and understood Harry Potter's passion - and then laughed. "Well. You'll see."

Harry grinned at her and swept forward. He pulled out his wand and muttered an incantation at the wall in front of him. He felt a rush as a bright blue light left his wand tip and hit the wall, causing it to shudder and creak open. Slowly, the light fell across the stone room, a cloud of must and fog impairing his view. The feeling he had felt before - that same magical imprint - hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him sort of out of breath and his vision fuzzy as he looked around the area. The blue light caught a shimmer of silvery-blond hair and there he was.

Draco.

"What is this," a voice whispered, disembodied, and then Draco turned and Harry realized it was his own voice. He had said it. Instead of looking into those pale grey, piercing eyes, he turned and looked at the younger woman and the other member of his team, a man about his age. "What is this shit," he spat, not a question, just a statement.

"Auror Potter -"

"Get out," he said, not yelling, just a voice as cold as steel, and the woman scampered away, her footsteps echoing in the hallway. The man who had stood beside her cast a concerned and confused look at Harry before walking off. Harry ignored this, and instead ran to Draco, the man that he hadn't seen in what felt like years.

He dropped to his knees before him, yet Draco did not look at him, his grey eyes focused on the floor. Harry grabbed both his hands - so thin, so gaunt - with one of his gloved ones and used the other hand to lift Draco's face up so that he could see his eyes. At first, Draco refused, but after a second, grey met green and Harry was startled. Draco looked so tired, in a way that he never had before, and Harry felt a pang of something travel through his entire body in a split second.

"Draco," he whispered.

"Harry, I'm -," Draco paused and shook his head. "I'm so sorry." Harry pulled away for a moment at this.

"Why are you sorry? Did you actually do something?" He let go of Draco's arms, and the latter, immediately reacting to the sudden loss of warmth, shook his head vigorously.

"No," Draco said vehemently, and then lapsed into his previous dull voice. "I didn't. I swear. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was trying to obtain ingredients from a slightly seedy place in Knockturn - because, well, you know the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, you know, Pippin's? They won't sell to me any more, don't want to aid and abet whatever Dark Magic the Malfoys are up to these days, and I can't exactly steal potion ingredients from work, which is where i get most of my potions ingredients because we buy them in bulk, and -,"

"Draco," Harry said, pressing his hand to his cheek, "you're rambling."

"Oh." Draco flushed. "Well, I was just trying to get dried moly petals, for the Wolfsbane, and - and - I was apprehended."

Harry examined him for a moment and then pulled him up, giving him a quick, awkward hug around the shoulders. He felt Draco stiffen for a moment and then relax, and although Harry didn't think it needed to be said, he leant forward and whispered the words _I believe you_ into Draco's ear. He smiled at Harry and in that moment, Harry realized something. Ron believed that Draco was innocent. Ron tried to warn Harry. He grinned.

"God, I should have believed Ron," Harry muttered, pressing closer to Draco. He felt a shudder and then Draco pulled away from Harry suddenly, his pupils blown wide, and Harry fell forward a bit.

"What?"

"Oh," Harry said, and then rushed to explain. "Ron told me, just now, or tried to tell me, anyway, in the hallway, just now -"

"Weasley warned you?" Draco said suddenly. His chest was trembling. Harry pulled away and looked at him. His eyes were wide in shock, and Harry saw some other emotion in there. "Ronald?"

"Yeah," Harry said uncertainly.

Draco was quiet for a long time, looking down at his quivering hands, and Harry closed his grip on them even tighter. He was so cold, Harry thought, and wanted him so desperately to warm up. But before he could voice this aloud, Draco looked up, and his eyes were even more pale that usual. And watery, Harry noted with some empathy. The blond was crying. Suddenly, he felt both embarrassment and some other intense emotion flood himself, so strong that Harry felt himself heave with the overwhelmingness of it all. He felt as though his heart may break, and leaned back before Draco whispered once more.

"He did it." Draco's voice was wavering, and so quiet Harry could barely hear him. "He DID it."

"Did what, Draco?" Harry asked.

The dark room was silent for a long moment, and Harry took it all in. The deep blue darkness that seeped in from the corners, the musty smell that reminded him of the attic in Grimmauld place, the holes in the walls that pockmarked the interior. Most importantly, Draco. He seemed to glow with an inner light, like a Renaissance painting. He was still curled up, so close that Harry could smell the remnants of cologne on his stained shirt. His mouth was screwed up in some bad emotion. A bead of sweat curled its way down his hairline, and his eyes were also wet. Harry felt a little embarrassed at seeing that, but at the same time he was glad.

"He forgave me." Draco smiled now, and swiped quickly at his eyes. "He really did it."

"That's what you're pleased about?" Harry laughed, a quick short bark that he didn't really feel. "About Ron?"

"Yes," Draco said simply, and then laughed. "Yes! Are you kidding? The Golden Trio forgave a Death Eater!" He laughed again, but it sounded hysterical in Harry's ears. "A Death Eater!"

"That's not who you are anymore," Harry said, his voice like steel, cutting through the foggy air.

"Harry, this mark on my skin will always define me, Healer or no." Draco's fingers lightly ran over his left forearm, which was covered by his sleeves, and then pushed aside Harry's hair. "Just as that mark will always define you. But I hoped that, if Weasley could ignore that, forget that you're the Chosen One, then he could forgive this." He gestured at the Mark. "That he could forgive me."

"Of course he could," Harry whispered. "This is not who you are. I know, Hermione knows, we know who you are."

He ran his fingers over Draco's cold face, eliciting a shiver.

"Ron knows," he said quietly, almost as if he was reassuring himself, but when he saw Draco's beaming face lift to meet his gaze, he knew it was for him.

"Let's get you out of here, mate."

Everything was for him.

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 **God bless you all for reading. I'm not religious but y'all are dope af. Thanks for sticking with me.**


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